Good Queen Bess
by KingdomHeartsNerd
Summary: When her brother dies, Princess Elizabeth finds herself thrust to the throne. Can she keep England safe from her Catholic sister, Mary, and her catholic cousin, Mary, Queen of Scots? Will she be able to raise a family AND rule a country? Read to find out.
1. Bess and Robert

**This is something that Lady Eleanor Boleyn and I have been discussing for a few weeks. I did, I will admit, use the beginning of the TV series "Victoria and Albert" for the scene in 1603. I have also, with Lady Eleanor Boleyn's agreement, made Robert into the eldest child of the Duke and Duchess of Northumberland, who were his actual parents in history. I also changed the date of the first appearance of cricket from 1598, to 1547. **

* * *

**_12th February 1603: Richmond Palace, England_**

_"The Queen! She's coming! The Queen!"_

_People in the nearby room bustled about, and one of them, a woman, who was cleaning one of the items, knocked a brush, which was on a platter. The woman left the room and the man remained as the Queen entered the room. She has a dog in her arms._

_She sat in the chair, and looked up to the man; he was an old man. "You're new here," she stated, as she moved the brush back to its correct place "My husband's rooms are to be left exactly as they were, when he was taken from us."_

_"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied._

_"I am a little ahead of my usual time today; nevertheless it is always better to complete a task well ahead of time. That was always my husband's maxim,"_

_"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied. He had never known the King, but he had heard good things about him._

_He bowed, and along with the other man, who was stood by the door, left the room, leaving the Queen to her thoughts. The Queen stroked the dog with one hand as she gently stroked the brush with her left hand. She adjusted the things on the platter, and moved the platter slightly, before she continued stroking the dog. She thought to her husband. Beloved Robin… fifty three years since our wedding day… how clearly, and with what astonishment do I remember how stubborn I was to you?_

* * *

**4th January 1550: Greenwich Palace, Kent, England.**

"Your brother was seen, at least twice, to yawn, during a play at court," The sixteen year old Princess Elizabeth informed Ambrose Dudley, the younger, sixteen year old brother, of the seventeen year old, Robert Dudley, who was the heir to the Earldom of Warwick and Dukedom of Northumberland. Robert and Ambrose were the oldest two boys and Ambrose was the shorter and chubbier of the two, while Robert was the well-built, tall and slim boy. Ambrose preferred to stay indoors, while Robert preferred being outside with Elizabeth. Being outside, with Elizabeth, meant that he could flirt with her. He knew that in August, Ambrose and Lady Anne Whorwood would be getting married.

"You know that late hours have never been something that I like, Bess," Robert commented from the chair, where he reclined a little. He had never been one for the game of cricket, which had been introduced in 1547, and was what Elizabeth and Ambrose were playing.

"Honestly, Robert," Ambrose scolded "If you're going to yawn, at least do it where no-one can see you. You know that the King doesn't mind, but others, like the Lady Mary, take offence to it. "

Elizabeth gave a noise of displeasure "Edward and I do not get along with Mary anymore. She prefers to stay at Hunsdon, so we never see her anyway, which is a good thing as all three of us have inherited our father's temper."

"Tell me about it," Robert muttered. Elizabeth turned on him "What did you say?"

"Nothing, nothing," he laughed, and she smiled. She had already asked Edward for permission to marry Robert and was just waiting for his reply. Even if the council protested against it, it was Edward who had the last word. Elizabeth was confident that Edward would agree to her request.

She had not noticed Sir Edward Seymour and Kat Ashley watching from the upstairs window.

* * *

"She plans to marry one of the Dudley boys?" Edward asked, moving the curtain so that he could see the Princess Elizabeth, Ambrose and Robert.

"The elder, I think," Kat replied, putting her sewing down and joining him at the window "She and Robert have been close since childhood, and Lord Robert is the heir to the Earldom of Warwick and Dukedom of Northumberland. It's a good match,"

"Why not the younger?" Edward Seymour asked "He's only a year younger, and he is, if I'm honest, the nicer of the two boys,"

"She'll take the elder. I know she will," Kat assured him "They both love each other, but neither will admit it. They're both to stubborn."

"What makes you think that the King will agree to this?" Edward Seymour asked.

"He was raised by Howards, My Lord Seymour," Kat replied, taking a seat and returning to her sewing "The King favours them, and The Princess Elizabeth is a Howard, through her grandmother, My Lord, not to mention that, despite being half-siblings, they are also related through Elizabeth Cheney, who is the great-great grandmother of both of them,"

"I still think that Catherine Howard had something to do with the death of King Henry," Edward informed her. Kat scoffed "King Henry died from a surfeit of food on New Year's Day, 1541. The physicians confirmed that."

"Yes, I know," Edward replied "But it was only the King and Queen that night, so I think that Queen Catherine either encouraged it, or at least, did nothing to stop it. She was the one sleeping with him that night,"

Kat nodded in agreement "Indeed, she was. But King Henry decreed that Charles Brandon – followed by Catherine's brother, Charles – was to be regent if he died when King Edward was still in his minority,"

"But why would the King allow his sister to be married before he is?" Seymour asked, confused.

"The King is twelve, Master Seymour;" Kat replied "He's not going to reach marrying age for at least two years, while the Princess Elizabeth is sixteen. She is in the prime years for child bearing. It makes her a much better heir than the Lady Mary. Lady Mary is thirty three, and not likely to have children. If the Princess Elizabeth is married, and has children, then she becomes a more pleasing heir. The King can easily pass an Act of Succession to change the order and place Her Highness ahead of Lady Mary,"

Edward Seymour did not reply. He glanced out of the window and watched Princess Elizabeth.

* * *

Outside, Princess Elizabeth looked up as Thomas Seymour strode across the grounds to her "Your Highness, King Edward wishes to see you and Lord Robert,"

Elizabeth nodded. Now, her fate was decided. The decision would come soon enough.

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_To Be Continued_

**Review please. **


	2. Princess Elizabeth Dudley

**4th January 1550: Greenwich Palace, Kent, England.**

"Bess," King Edward VI, aged twelve, was sat in his throne, short, slim and blond, he looked just like his mother, but had his father's temper "I know that you and Lord Robert are protestant and are not a threat to my throne – unlike some people," he cast a dark glare to Lady Mary – who was stood nearby – and then to his uncles "so I am allowing you and Robert to be married."

Elizabeth's face broke into the biggest smile that Edward had ever seen her give as she dropped into a curtsey. Edward Seymour did not look happy. He was certain that the King would have either said no, or made Elizabeth marry Robert's younger brother. This ruined everything. "However, and children that you have, Bess, will take the surname of Tudor. This is what has been written in the new Act of Succession" Seymour raised an eyebrow at Kat "this way, if I die without children, you will be my successor and your children, with the Tudor name, can continue on our dynasty,"

As The Princess Elizabeth and Lord Robert left the room, Edward Seymour moved forward "Your Majesty, are you sure that it is wise to reinstate Elizabeth as a Princess, and to allow her to marry Lord Robert? His grandfather was a traitor,"

"Lord Robert is a trusted friend. He grew up with me and Bess. He has served me loyally from childhood, which is a lot more than you have done, Uncle. Now, leave my sight! I have made my decision and I stand by it!"

Edward Seymour bowed and took Lady Mary aside "My Lady," he began "What is your reaction to this marriage?"

"I think that my sister has made a grave mistake, Lord Seymour," Mary replied "Marrying into a family full of traitors just makes it easier for her to be overthrown by our catholic cousin, Mary of Scotland. If God sees fit to take our brother to him, and I am, for some reason, unable to take the throne for myself, then I would rather have our catholic cousin, Mary, on the throne, rather than the daughter of a whore and a traitor's grandson, even if our cousin, Mary, is only eight. Of course, our brother will not, hopefully, be dying anytime soon, because if a Dudley does get onto the throne, then this country will fall into ruin, and everything that mother and father did will be ruined,"

Edward Seymour could not think of anything that Katherine of Aragon had done, except fail to provide a male heir, despite that though, she was beloved by almost everyone during her lifetime, not least of all her daughter, so he wouldn't say anything like that to the Lady Mary, as she could be a valuable ally to make the King do what the Seymours wanted him to do, as Mary did owe a debt to Queen Jane Seymour for reuniting her with her father, King Henry VIII.

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**Two weeks later: Whitehall Chapel, England**

"Do you, Lord Robert, take this woman, Princess Elizabeth Tudor to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you swear, on your solemn oath before all these witnesses, to love her, honour her and cherish her for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, and to forsake all other women for her for the rest of your natural lives until death does you two part" Edmund Grindal, the vicar in charge of the ceremony, asked Robert

"I do," Robert replied, steely determination visible in his eyes

"And do you, Princess Elizabeth Tudor, take this man Lord Robert Dudley, to be your lawfully wedded lord and husband? Do you swear, on your solemn oath before all these witnesses, to love him and cherish him and to honour and obey him for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, and to forsake all other men for him for the rest of your natural lives until death does you two part" Edmund Grindal repeated the question to Elizabeth

"I do," Elizabeth, like Robert, had a steeply determination visible in her eyes.

After exchanging rings, Edmund Grindal spoke again

"What God has joined in Holy Matrimony, let no man tear asunder. I now pronounce you man and wife. Your Grace, you may kiss the bride," Edmund Grindal made the sign of the cross over their head. Robert needed no further urging. Leaning forward, and, lifting the veil out of Elizabeth's face, he pressed his lips to hers more passionately than ever before. Elizabeth, like her husband, replied with more passion than she had ever given before, melting into Robert's arms.

Then, taking Elizabeth's hand and slipping through the crook of his arm, Robert led her down the chapel aisle and out into the Banqueting Hall at Whitehall for their wedding feast. He had done it. He had secured his beloved Elizabeth for his wife. They were married and Robert had no doubt that they would live happily ever after.

* * *

Kat Ashley watched her mistress dance with Lord Robert. They were happy, in love, and Kat could easily see them being parents within the year. "Your Highness,"

Kat dropped a curtsey as Elizabeth and Robert approached. "Your Grace,"

Robert gave a small nod. He and Elizabeth had finished dancing and the King was gesturing for him to approach the throne. "Look after my wife for me, Lady Ashley,"

"Yes, Your Grace," Kat dropped another curtsey, and she and Elizabeth moved aside. "So," Kat began "Are you happy, Bess?"

"I am, Kat," Elizabeth replied, sighing happily "I really am,"

"I hope that you will allow me to stay on in your new household, Your Highness?" Kat asked. Elizabeth looked to her "Of course, Kat. I wouldn't give you up for anything,"

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_To Be Continued_

**Review Please.**


	3. The Act of Succession 1550

**5th March 1550: Cumnor Place, Oxfordshire, England, Home of the Princess Elizabeth**

Princess Elizabeth was bored. Being two months pregnant meant that there was not much that she could do. She could not go riding as it could harm the child. This meant that she was stuck in doors, all day, sewing. At least Kat was here with her.

"Have you seen Robert today, Kat?" Elizabeth asked, glancing up from her sewing "I couldn't find him anywhere,"

"His Majesty, The King, arrived this morning – before you were awake, My Lady – and asked Lord Robert to go riding with him," Kat replied "They had something to discuss about the new Act of Succession that the King is working on."

Elizabeth gave a nod of acknowledgement and returned to her sewing. She, Robert and the King, knew that she was pregnant, and she had fallen pregnant a few days after her marriage to Robert. She smiled when she remembered that Lord Seymour and Mary had not been happy.

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**5th March 1550: Whitehall Palace, England**

Having returned from riding with his brother-in-law, The King glanced down to the paper in front of him. It was the new Act of Succession, which was due to be passed at the next meeting of the Privy Council. All he had to do now was actually put the succession in order. But that was where the problems began. If he put Elizabeth before Mary, then the Catholic forces would be attacking England within two years' time, but if he placed Mary first, then the Protestant forces would openly rebel.

Looking down at the parchment in front of him, he picked up his feather, dipped it into the ink, and placed it over the parchment. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before scrawling two words underneath his own name; Princess Elizabeth.

Underneath Elizabeth's name, he scrawled Mary's name. The Catholic forces could throw all the forces of hell at him, but he would not change his mind. If he died, without heirs, then Elizabeth was going to succeed him. No matter what…

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**7th March 1550: Hunsdon House, Hunsdon, Hertfordshire, England, Home of the Lady Mary**

"The King has done **_what?"_**

Susan Clarencieux jumped, nearly losing the pile of linen she was carrying, as her mistress, Lady Mary, exploded with anger at Sir Thomas Seymour, and he too, jumped, for Mary rarely lost her temper, but, when she did, it was a formidable sight.

"The King, Lady Mary, has appointed the Princess Elizabeth-"

"-Lady Elizabeth," Mary swiftly interrupted, but Thomas Seymour carried on as if Mary hadn't even spoken "-as his heir, if he has no children, and has restored her to the title of Princess,"

Mary's eyes flashed from love for her brother to absolute hatred and the feather that was held between both of her hands snapped. She gave a small growl of annoyance, and turned. She strode off, towards her room. The door closed behind her with a loud smash, and the picture frame on the wall fell to the floor, shattering as it landed.

She sat down at her desk, and began to write on the parchment.

_To my dear cousin, Charles._

_My brother, King Edward VI, has removed me from the succession and placed that Bastard daughter of that concubine, Anne Boleyn, in my place! This was obviously done through witchcraft. It seems that Anne Boleyn's bastard daughter has been meddling in the same forces that her mother meddled in. In being removed from my place in the succession, there is no possible way that England can be restored to the true faith and they will be worshipping a false god and a false church._

_Your cousin, Mary, Princess of England, Ireland, France, Spain, Aragon and Castile._

She folded the parchment up and handed it to one of her maids "Give this to the Spanish Ambassador,"

The maid dipped a curtsey, and left.

Mary smiled. Now her brother would find out what the Catholic Forces could do. She _would_ be restored to her _rightful_ place in the succession... no matter what...

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_To Be Continued_

**Review please.**


	4. The Plotting Lady

**The title, Viscount Lisle, is the subsidiary title that the heir to the Dukedom of Northumberland uses. That is why Robert is called it, so, Elizabeth's title is now, Elizabeth Dudley, Viscountess Lisle, Princess of England, Ireland and France.**

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**17th June 1550: Hunsdon House, Hunsdon, Hertfordshire, England, Home of the Lady Mary**

"So? I am a bastard again?" Mary asked, as she re-read over the letter that was handed to her the day before "Archbishop Cranmer has declared my father's second marriage valid at the time of Elizabeth's birth. This means that Elizabeth is Edward's automatic heir, behind his children, of course,"

She was talking to herself, and she knew that she was. She just couldn't believe it. The little boy that she had looked after in his younger years had now thrown it all back at her.

She got to her feet "Susan?"

Her maid appeared in an instant, dipping a curtsey as she did so "My Lady?"

Mary reached into her pocket, and pulled out a letter. "Take this to the Spanish Ambassador,"

"Yes, My Lady,"

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**17th June 1550: Cumnor Place, Oxfordshire, England, Home of the Princess Elizabeth**

Elizabeth, who was busy, sewing a small pair of socks, for her unborn child, suddenly stopped, her hand flying, quickly, to her stomach.

"My Lady?" Blanche Parry asked, anxiously, readying herself to rise in case something was wrong with the baby.

"It's nothing," Elizabeth replied, as Kat reached her side "The baby just kicked. That's all," the baby kicked again and Elizabeth smiled, gently placing her hand back onto his stomach. The baby, growing in her stomach, was the product of her and her husband, and it was a Lord or Lady for England and an heir, or heiress, to the throne, behind Elizabeth herself.

"Are you sure, My Lady?"

If anyone, other than Kat, had asked her that, she would probably have exploded at them. But, Kat had served Elizabeth faithfully for years, and would probably continue to do so. Instead, Elizabeth gave a smile and nodded "I am fine, Kat. I am sure of that. It is not time yet… nor will it be until November,"

"If you are like your mother, My Lady, you could have your child early," Mary Mackwilliam nee Hill commented. She went quiet when Kat glared up at her. Kat rose, and ushered the ladies from the room.

"Just call us if you need us, Your Highness,"

Elizabeth waved off her fussing ladies and returned to her sewing. When she thought about it, the kicking was a little soothing. Perhaps she could get used to being pregnant after all...

* * *

**18th June 1550: Whitehall Palace, England**

"The Princess Elizabeth and the Viscount Lisle seem to be happy in their marriage." Katherine Parr commented to her husband, Sir Thomas Seymour, who nodded in agreement.

"Yes," he replied "They do."

"Marriage, Kate, is not about being happy," Edward Seymour interrupted, as he arrived "It is about having sons, which, so far, you have failed to do. You have provided my brother with one child. A girl named Mary,"

Katherine did not reply, instead, she noticed Robert and Princess Elizabeth moving to the dance floor, where they readied themselves. The herald called "The Viscount and Viscountess Lisle!" and the dance began, with Elizabeth and Robert waltzing, gently, around the dance floor.

Once the dance had ended, Elizabeth and Robert moved aside, to allow Barnaby Fitzpatrick and Amy Robsart to take the floor.

"Bess," The King approached her and Robert "Are you enjoying being back at court?"

"Yes," she replied, smiling as she dipped a curtsey "I am, Your Majesty,"

The King smiled "I hear from your husband that the child has quickened," Elizabeth smiled brightly "Yes, it has. I think that it will be strong,"

"This shows that you are supposed to be my true heir, Bess," The King smiled, placing a hand on her arm. He was far too short to reach her shoulder "not Mary, who is an unmarried spinster,"

Elizabeth smiled back to her brother, and sovereign, but could not help feeling sorry for Mary.

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_To Be Continued_


	5. England's Two Elizabeths

**12th November 1550: Cumnor Place, Oxfordshire, England, Home of the Princess Elizabeth**

Robert Dudley looked up as Lady Catherine Grey, aged ten, burst into his chambers. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked, looking up from the parchment on his desk. Catherine was breathing hard. "Y-Your wife has gone into labour, Your Grace,"

The quill in Robert's hand shook for a moment, and he placed both hands onto the table and gripped it, hard. He took a deep breath "Thank you, Lady Catherine. I assume that my wife's ladies have been informed?"

"Yes, Your Grace. They are with her now,"

Robert nodded, and got to his feet "Lead the way, Catherine,"

Lady Catherine Grey dipped a curtsey and left the room, with Robert following her. Henry Dudley, aged eleven, and Henry Herbert, aged twelve, watched her go. She was slim, had dark red hair and was well proportioned. She was, by far, the most beautiful of the Grey sisters. Her elder sister, Jane, was a bluebell, while her younger sister was a hunchbacked dwarf.

A few moments later, Robert and Catherine reached Elizabeth's chambers. A loud scream echoed from the birthing room, and Robert unconsciously winced. Catherine Grey disappeared into the crowd of ladies, who were preparing everything for the birth of the Princess Elizabeth's child, and returned, a few moments later, with Lady Katherine Ashley _nee_ Champernowne, commonly known as Kat.

"How is my wife?" Robert asked. Kat made a gesture for Catherine to leave. Catherine dropped a curtsey and headed off into the crowd of ladies to find her elder sister, Jane. Kat moved forward, and began to speak, making sure that none of the Princess Elizabeth's catholic ladies could hear. "Her Highness is doing well, Your Grace. The Midwife has assured me that everything is as it should be,"

Robert nodded, and began to pace. Up and down. Up and down.

* * *

**13th November 1550: Cumnor Place, Oxfordshire, England, Home of the Princess Elizabeth**

A loud, primal scream echoed, as Elizabeth pushed one last time. Robert's head snapped up as the cry of a baby echoed throughout Elizabeth's chambers.

Robert pushed open the door, and his wife's ladies turned to him. They dropped a curtsey, and he moved to the bed, where Elizabeth sat. A bundle of blankets were in her arms and a red haired and blue eyed baby was glancing up at Elizabeth.

"Robert!"

Elizabeth noticed her husband as he sat on the side of the bed and the midwife gently took the child from Elizabeth, so that the child could be cleaned up.

"Next time," Elizabeth began "It will be a son," Robert looked down to her, and scoffed "Oh, Elizabeth,"

"We must have a son, Robert," she replied "It is our duty. You know that,"

Robert got to his feet "Oh, duty can be damned for all I care!" he moved to the midwife who had cleaned up the child. She wrapped the child up in the bundle of blankets and gently handed the child to Robert. He took the child, and returned to the bed. "She's beautiful," Elizabeth gently took the child from him, and moved a small part of the blanket aside. The child gripped her finger tightly.

"Oh, gracious," Elizabeth exclaimed, "What a grip!"

"Well," Robert began "There's no doubt about the name then, is there? Elizabeth." he moved a small part of the blanket aside and the baby released Elizabeth's finger before grabbing his. A few moments later, the baby decided that Elizabeth's finger was more fun. Elizabeth smiled. "Yes," she agreed "Lady Elizabeth Tudor,"

Robert smiled "Your sister is here," he informed his wife.

"I don't remember asking _her_ to come." Elizabeth replied, looking up to Robert. "I asked her," he replied.

"Did you, indeed?" Elizabeth asked, raising her eyebrows. He placed a kiss to her forehead "I thought it right,"

Well, I can't see her now," Elizabeth replied, leaning gently against Robert "I'm worn out,"

"She's been so anxious, Bess," Robert informed her, but Elizabeth was sticking to her principles, and her stubborn nature rose to the surface again "No,"

"For a moment?" he asked "She's just in the next room,"

"Very well," Elizabeth replied, conceding defeat to her husband and the father of her daughter "But only for a moment,"

Robert got up, crossed the room, and opened the door. He left the room for a moment, and returned a few moments later, with Lady Mary Tudor behind him. As Mary entered the room baby Elizabeth gave a few small cries, before becoming quiet again and staring up to her mother. Elizabeth looked up from her daughter to her sister "Mary,"

"Elizabeth," Mary dipped a curtsey to her sister and moved to the chair by the side of the bed "They say that you have been in labour for almost the whole night. You must be exhausted." Elizabeth did not reply, and the two sisters could easily sense the tension in the room. Mary decided to break it first "Can I hold her?"

"Yes, of course," Elizabeth handed the baby over to Mary, who gently took the baby from her. Elizabeth saw her sister's face light up as baby Elizabeth cooed up to her. "She's enchanting, Elizabeth. I swear that, never before, have I seen such a beautiful child," Mary adjusted the blanket a little and looked up "She's far too pretty to put her dear mother under such a great deal of pain... and trouble," Mary looked back to her niece, who was gurgling in the blankets.

"I had hoped for a boy," Elizabeth replied. Mary looked up to her "So had I," she replied "Just to spite father. He went through five wives, and only one gave him a son. It would have been so good if one of _us_, the neglected daughters, had a son before Edward did. It was not a son this time, Bess, but, next time, it will be... I promise. After all, your mother," Mary faltered for a moment "Anne Boleyn," Elizabeth could see that Mary still wasn't comfortable about those years "had three sons. They were all stillborn, yes, but, with our father's lack of children, that cannot be blamed on her... You will have a son, Bess. I know that you will."

Elizabeth could tell that her daughter, Lady Elizabeth Tudor, was going to bring her and Mary closer, and hopefully reunite them truly, once more, as sisters...


	6. Elizabeth, Queen of England

**Thank you to all of my reviewers. Now, I hope that you all enjoy this chapter. **

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**4th January 1551: The Tower of London, London, England**

It had been two days since the death of King Edward - who had died from consumption after falling ill in December- and, tomorrow, Elizabeth would be crowned Queen. At this present moment, however, she was in the tower. All royal monarchs went to the tower the night before the coronation. She, her daughter, Elizabeth, now known as Bessie, and Robert, all shared a room. The Royal Suite.

The door to Elizabeth's chambers swung open and Thomas Howard, Earl of Surrey entered. It was the dead off night and the guards had been dismissed for the night. Princess Bessie snuffled slightly in her sleep, and began to stand. Being not yet three months old, she could stand, but only when supported by the bars of her crib.

Surrey knew that if Elizabeth was dead, then he could overthrow Mary and take the throne for himself. He pulled out his sword, and raised it. He readied himself to plung it into Elizabeth's chest. Right above Robert's hand, and just below her breasts. However, he had not noticed Princess Bessie, watching him, from the other side of the room. Princess Bessie was at an age where one spoke in a series of unintelligible shrieks; for example _"Ga!" _which probably meant _"Mama, look out for the man with the sword!"_

Surrey glanced to the bed, as Elizabeth shuffled slightly in the bed. Perhaps the Queen shouldn't be first. She could suffer more by the death of her beloved daughter. He strode to the crib, and raised the sword. He thrust it forward. There was a loud clunk of wood and skull followed by Elizabeth's cry of "I think not, My Lord!"

Elizabeth, who had heard her daughter cry, had thumped her second cousin, straight over the head with the hilt of Robert's sword. "Elizabeth?" Robert had stirred, and gotten to his feet. He noticed Surrey, and looked, anxiously, between his wife and daughter. As Surrey began to stir, Robert scooped his daughter into his arms, and held her close. Bessie clutched at the collar of his doublet, and Elizabeth readied herself with the sword. She had no intention of using it, but Surrey did not know that, after all, she was the daughter of Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII, King of England, Ireland and France. Elizabeth knew that words spoke far better that actions did, and, being very smart for her age, she knew how to use them. "Lord Surrey," she began, to the man on the floor "Get up!"

Lord Surrey scrambled to his feet. "Guards!" Robert called. Two of the guards, from another part of the Tower, came running. "Take him to another cell," Elizabeth ordered. The guards picked him up, and dragged him away. Rocking his daughter slowly back to sleep, Robert gently lowered Bessie back into the crib, and he and Elizabeth returned to the bed.

* * *

**5th January 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

"To the North, I present unto you, Elizabeth, your undoubted Queen!" Thomas Howard, 3rd Duke of Norfolk called to the hall, as he held the crown up high. If he was angry at his son's actions, he certainly didn't show it here. He repeated the same call to the opposite end of the hall "To the South, I present unto you, Elizabeth your undoubted Queen!"

Elizabeth, decked out in ceremonial robes, strode, slowly and elegantly down the aisle. Her ladies all filed along behind her, with Lady Katherine Ashley leading them. Elizabeth reached the chair, and her ladies dropped curtseys to her, before moving into the crowd. Elizabeth took her seat on the throne, and Owen Oglethorpe took the crown off of The Duke of Norfolk. Owen stepped in front of Elizabeth and held the crown up to the crown, before turning and placing it on her head "I crown thee, Elizabeth, Queen of England, Ireland and France!" he handed her a sceptre, and an orb. Like Elizabeth's crown, they were made of gold too. "Long live, Your Majesty!" Owen called. The same process was then repeated for Elizabeth's husband, Robert Dudley, King Consort of England, Ireland and France.

Once the coronation had ended and the dancing and celebrations had begun, Lady Frances Grey, nee Brandon, Marchioness of Dorset and cousin to the Queen, glanced around the room. Her eldest daughter, and child, Lady Jane Grey, needed a husband, and it was going to be one of the Dudley boys. It wouldn't be the eldest, as he was married to Elizabeth, nor would it be the second, as he too, like the first, and third, was married. So, that left the fourth, Guilford Dudley.

She knew who she had to convince, and, it was not the King. She had to convince the Duke of Northumberland. Moving forward, and passing through the crowd, she approached the man in question. He was tall, and broad shouldered, with a small beard.

"My Lord, Northumberland," she began, and, nearby, Lady Jane Grey sighed. If this betrothal went through, then she would be married, to a blonde haired, pompous, arrogant, gluttonous, self absorbed prig, not to mention the fact that he smelled. But, at least for now, she could watch the Lavolta being danced. The King, who had left his throne, was one of the dancers, as were his brothers, John, Henry and Ambrose, while Jane's sister, Katherine, danced alongside Henry Herbert, her betrothed. Her Majesty, Katherine Howard, Dowager Queen of England, Ireland and France, Viscountess Culpeper, danced with her husband, Sir Thomas Culpeper, 1st Viscount Culpeper, and Lady Mary Tudor, the Queen's elder sister, whirled around the dancefloor with one of her servants. Little Alexander Culpeper, aged three, and the son of Katherine and Thomas, sat near Jane, swinging his little legs in time with the music.

The dance stopped for a moment, as Elizabeth got to her feet. She lifted the front of her skirt a little and walked down the steps. She reached Robert, and smiled, turning to the music players "Play a Volta!" The rest of the ladies curtseyed, and the gentlemen bowed, before retreating away and Elizabeth She took her place in front of Robert. The music began to play and the dance began with a galliard. Then the couple made a transition to a closed position. The leader, Robert, let go of his partner's hand and took hold of her below her busk with one hand, and placed the other hand on her back above the far hip. The follower, Elizabeth, placed her near hand on top of her partner's near shoulder. Now the leader was facing his partner while she faced to one side; both did the turn with forward steps, and both stepped with the same foot at the same time.

The turn began with a small step, springing onto the outside foot and lifting the inside foot forward. On the second beat there was a longer step, stepping smoothly onto the inside foot and staying close to the ground. During this step the follower poised herself for a spring, and just after it she sprang up into the air. The leader lifted her with his hands, then held her up with his hands and with the thigh of his free leg under her thighs. He let her down to land on both feet on the last beat of the measure. The couple made an approximate 3/4 turn during each measure. The turn was repeated _ad lib_ for several measures, and then the galliard was resumed in an open position.

As everyone filed back onto the dancefloor, Frances curtseyed to the elder John Dudley, the Duke of Northumberland. She, and he, would be meeting, tonight, in his chambers at court, to discuss the betrothal of his fourth son, Guilford Dudley, to Frances's eldest child, Jane Grey.

Elizabeth returned to her throne, and smiled. Catherine Knollys, nee Carey, carefully handed Princess Bessie back to Elizabeth, while Robert danced on the dancefloor. Elizabeth watched him closely, as did Bessie.

"The Queen is definitely her Father's child," Northumberland informed Norfolk, who nodded in agreement. "Look closer, Your Grace," Norfolk replied, nodding towards the Queen "Her eyes are her mother's." Northumberland noticed that Norfolk was right. The Queen's sparkling eyes were the same shade of deep amber brown eyes as her mother's had once been.

William Cecil was pointing out people to the Queen, and Jane could see that she was taking in the names and faces, but overall, she was not paying attention. He eyes were still watching Robert dance. Jane then spotted Guilford Dudley approaching, dipped a curtsey to her mother, and disappeared into the crowd of people.

"Your Majesty?" Elizabeth looked up. In front of her was her cousin, Lady Catherine Knollys, nee Carey, who was just rising from a curtsey "May I introduce my second daughter, Laetitia Knollys?"

Laetitia Knollys had long, flowing copper red hair, which curled down her back. At the age of seven, she was tall, slim and well proportioned. Laetitia dropped into a curtsey, and Elizabeth held out her hand. Laetitia rose and kissed the Queen's hand. "Your Majesty," she spoke, as she stopped kissing Elizabeth's hand. The Queen nodded her head in acknowledgement and Catherine dropped a curtsey, leading Laetitia away. Catherine was the only one who noticed the smile on the Queen's face. Elizabeth noticed Catherine's husband, Sir Francis Knollys, and the remaining seven children nearby. He kissed Catherine as she reached them and hugged Laetitia tightly. The eldest son, who was slightly heavy for his age and a two years older than Laetitia, ruffled Laetitia's hair, and she pouted. He laughed and Laetitia nearly bowled him over as she hugged him. Elizabeth could see that Laetitia would be a beautiful girl when she grew up, and possibly a threat, she would have to keep an eye on Laetitia. The boy would be quite attractive too, once he had lost the baby fat that is.

Elizabeth noticed her elder sister, Mary, and, apart from her, the last remaining child of King Henry VIII. Mary was deep in conversation with the Spanish Ambassador. Elizabeth clicked her fingers, and one of her husband's attendants, the almost sixteen year old Barnaby Fitzpatrick, approached and bowed in front of her. "Lord Fitzpatrick," Elizabeth began "I want you to keep an eye on my sister, but, do not let her find out. She's up to something. I know she is. I remember, that in my childhood, Mary only spoke with the Spanish Ambassador when she was calling for the Emperor's help. Keep an eye on her,"

"Yes, Your Majesty," he turned to leave. But Elizabeth's call of "Barnaby," stopped him. He turned to look back to her, and Elizabeth continued to speak "I know that you miss my brother very much. I do too. I have never forgotten your unfailing loyalty to him, and I never will,"

Barnaby swept into a bow, and left the Queen to do her bidding. Elizabeth knew, as well as Barnaby did, that he hadn't been faithful to Edward, but had been in love with him instead. Edward's death, being a hard blow to Elizabeth, and a relief to Mary had come as a horrible shock to Barnaby. Elizabeth hoped that Barnaby could get over Edward's death... she really did.

* * *

**6th January 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

"My Lords," William Cecil sat at the head of the table "as we have much weighty business today, I suggest that we put aside the appointment of officers and concentrate on-" he had noticed the other door open. Elizabeth was stood in the doorway. "Your Grace!" Cecil, and the other men, all rose.

"My Lords," Elizabeth replied "we are minded to join our council today," She moved to the head of the table, Norfolk pulled out the chair, she sat in it, and thanked him. Everyone else moved along one, so that the Queen was at the head of the table. They all sat down after the Queen did.

"Well, Master Secretary," Elizabeth began "What news today?"

"Three main matters, Your Majesty," William Cecil replied "Amongst the lesser ones; first, the reform of the currency,"

"Ah, yes," Elizabeth replied, nodding "that must be seen too without delay,"

"It won't be easy," Thomas Radclyffe, 3rd Earl of Sussex informed her "The coinage is greatly debased,"

"No matter what it costs, the people must know that the coin of the realm is legal tender," she replied "If they cannot trust the coin, then they cannot trust me,"

"Very well, Your Highness," Sussex replied. Elizabeth gave a small smile "Set out, on paper, the mesaures you propose, and I will sign them." She glanced to Cecil "What next?" Cecil coughed, once and began to speak. "The matter that I mentioned to Your Majesty, yesterday. The appointment of Your Majesty's judges."

"You are quite right," Elizabeth replied "Justice has been debased just as often as the coinage, and the people have suffered from it. Judges must learn to give justic freely, as they receive it from their Prince. They must have a care over _my_ people, as they are, _my_ people. Everyone oppresses them, and plunders them, without mercy, and they cannot revenge their wrongs, nor help themselves. The judges must take care of them. Take care of them. For they are _my_ charge."

Everyone around the table went quiet at Elizabeth's speech, and Elizabeth looked to them. "What next?"

"Thirdly," Cecil began "the matter of The Princess Elizabeth's marriage," Elizabeth looked away from him for a moment. She knew that her councillors were already looking for eligible Princes to marry the Princess Elizabeth to. Personally, she thought that it was far to early, Bessie was, after all, not even three months old yet. After a few moments, Elizabeth spoke "Leave that aside," Cecil nodded, and prepared to move on. "Your Highness, the ques-" Sussex tried to interrupt, but Cecil elbowed him on the arm, to silence him. It didn't work "The question of the marriage _must_ be discussed!"

"But _not_ in this place, nor at this time! _Leave that aside!_" Elizabeth's voice had a hard edge to it. Sussex noticed the tone in her voice, and wisely became quiet.

* * *

**7th January 1551: Hunsdon House, Hunsdon, Hertfordshire, England, Home of the Lady Mary**

"I am to leave?" Mary could hardly believe her eyes as she read over the parchment in her hand. She was being forced to leave the home that was given to her by her father, King Henry VIII shortly before his death, ten years ago.

"Yes, My Lady," Thomas Seymour informed her "The Queen has commanded that you are to leave Hundson House,"

"Where am I to go?" Mary asked, sitting in the chair in front of the roaring fire.

"You, Lady Mary," Thomas Seymour replied "are to go to Kimbolton Castle in Cambridgeshire,"

Mary's heart felt like it was being squeezed. She was being sent to the place that her mother had died in fifteen years ago. "If that is what the Queen commands, then I will go." Thomas Seymour nodded. He may not have been in the Queen's favour, but, he could easily side with Mary against the Queen.

"It is what the Queen commands," Thomas Seymour had removed all emotion from his voice "You are to be packed by tomorrow morning, when a carriage will arrive to take you to Kimbolton Castle," He bowed, and left. As the door closed, Mary nodded to her maid, Susan, who fiddled with the letter in her pocket and left the room.

Mary began packing. She knew that she would have to obey Elizabeth, at least, that is, until her cousin Charles intervened, and forced Elizabeth to allow Mary back to Hundson House. She knew that her cousin would get her out of the situation that she was in now.

"My Lady?" Susan appeared at the door "Bishop Gardiner is here,"

* * *

_To Be Continued._

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**I hope that you liked this chapter. Please, review. Tell me what you think.**


	7. Princess Mary's Marriage

**Thank you to one of my reviewers, Alexis, for pointing out that forgot to credit a source. I shall credit it now. I used a quote from "Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events" in my last chapter. I used it to describe Princess Bessie. Attyfan, Mary was sent there deliberately, to put her in her place. ****Lady Eleanor Boleyn. I am sorry for not brainstorming the last scene with you, but, it was the only way for my story to work.**

**Without further ado, the next chapter of The Dudley Rose of England.**

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**11th February 1551: Kimbolton Castle, Cambridgeshire**

"My Lady? Henry Carey, Baron Hundson is here,"

Mary Tudor rose, to greet the newly ennobled, Henry Carey, who waved off Mary's ladies, so that he could speak to her alone. "Lady Mary,"

"Princess," she corrected him. By their father's will, she was still a Princess, even if she was in seclusion, in the country, in the building that killed her mother. Henry Carey waved it off. He glanced around for a moment "The Queen is willing to pardon you..." Mary perked up for a moment "On two conditions, one, you sever all contact with Spain, as you are English, not Spanish, and two, you allow the Queen to choose a husband for you,"

Mary got to her feet, and began to pace. "What if I do not agree to this?"

"Then, Lady Mary," Henry Carey began "The Queen may be forced to have you confined here permanently, and, she may have to execute you,"

Mary gasped, placing a hand to her chest. "Elizabeth is my sister. She wouldn't execute me,"

"If her council tell her that it is for the best, Lady Mary," Henry replied "Then she would, she is the Queen and has to do what is best for her family. However, if you sign this," he pulled out a scroll of parchment "and renounce Spain, and allow your sister to choose a husband for you, then I will be able to convince the Queen that you are not a threat to her, and I may be able to convince her to release you from house arrest. You have ten minutes to make your decision,"

Mary paced, before picking up a quill, some ink, and signing her signature on the bottom of the parchment. Henry Carey smiled, bowed to Mary and left.

* * *

**12th February 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

"Your Majesty? The Queen is just over a month pregnant."

"Thank you, Dr López," Robert placed a bag of coins into the hands of Rodrigo López and López left the room as the Queen emerged. Robert moved forward to her, slipped an arm around her, and kissed her, deeply, on the lips. He moved around her so that he was behind her, and slipped both of his hands onto her stomach. "Our child," he began, rubbing his hands over her stomach in circular motions.

She leaned gently against him and nodded, smiling. Her eyes betrayed her happiness. Robert sighed "Great. Now, I'm going to have to find some other way to occupy myself until the birth of our son or daughter,"

"It has to be a son, Robin," Elizabeth replied "You know that."

Robert sighed "Oh, Bess, Bess, Bess. Even if we only have ten daughters, I will be happy, and the people have accepted you as Queen, they'll accept Bessie if we don't have a son,"

"But what if I die when she is still young?" Elizabeth asked, anxiously. Robert smiled "Then I will look after her. She is my daughter, after all. I will keep her safe, and I will be regent until she comes of age. My family will not influence me, Bess. My father wanted me to marry Lady Amy Robsart, the only legitimate child, and heiress, of Sir John Robsart, but I refused."

"You refused an heiress, even though your father demanded it?"

"Indeed I did, Bess," Robert replied, smiling "Indeed I did, and I don't regret it for one moment,"

Elizabeth laughed, and Robert soon joined in. A thought crossed Robert's mind. "Amy and I, despite not marrying, remain close friends. Master Fitzpatrick needs a wife, correct? Maybe we could marry Amy to him?"

"Master Fitzpatrick," Elizabeth began "Is betrothed to the Lady Joan Eustace,"

"A betrothal can be broken off, Bess. Lady Amy is older than Lady Joan is." Robert replied "Lady Joan is, after all, only twelve years old, while Lady Amy is Nineteen this year. He is not that much younger than her. He is sixteen years old, this year, Bess,"

"Maybe you're right." Elizabeth admitted "Maybe you're right."

* * *

**13th February 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

Catherine Carey, Lady Knollys, ran through the hallways around the tennis arena. She was trying to run past two of the King's jesters who were doing back flips all the way down the hall. Catherine pushed open the door that led onto the room where the tennis match was being played. She noticed that George Howard, older brother to Dowager Queen Katherine Howard, was playing against The King, and a smile came to her lips. Forgetting for a moment of what she was supposed to be doing, she ran to her seat next to Kat Ashley. She was out of breath by the time she sat down. "Who's winning?" she whispered and Kat replied "The King". Catherine should have known. Robert Dudley was the most athletic man at court, not to mention the fact that he was tall, well built, had a slight layer of stubble around his chin, and was King Consort of England, Ireland and France. At this moment, he was playing against George Howard, who just happened to be the cousin of Queen Elizabeth's mother, Anne Boleyn and thus a cousin of Elizabeth too. He was always trying to advance himself and his family but the Queen, and the King, knowing that the Howard Family could easily be traitors, usually had none of it, especially after the attempted assassination of Elizabeth, by the Earl of Surrey.

Everyone clapped as Robert Dudley won points. Everyone was sure that he was definitely going to win. Robert looked towards Elizabeth and she smiled back at him.

Suddenly, Robert hit the winning point and everyone clapped enthusiastically. "Bravo!" yelled out Elizabeth as she clapped. "Bravo!" The two men walked towards her and Elizabeth hid a laugh at the expression on her cousin's face. "You are a most worthy loser cousin. I commend you," said Elizabeth to a sulking George.

"But a loser nonetheless," said Dudley, laughing a little as he picked up a white handkerchief off of his wife's lap. She smiled towards her husband.

"Your familiarity, with the Queen, is as offensive, as it is disrespectful, Sir" said George, glancing to Elizabeth, who was on the verge of laughing because the two men in front of her, one of whom was her husband, were acting just like two little spoilt boys. Dudley cleaned his neck with the handkerchief and smiled as George spoke.

"Your need is greater than mine I fancy," said Dudley who held out the handkerchief towards George. "It is damp but it still serves."

George looked towards Dudley and smacked the handkerchief back onto Elizabeth's lap "Next time it will be your swollen head that I aim for, Dudley." The councillors eyed George and the ladies gasped. This was not a wise thing to say in front of the Queen.

"Judging by your performance, your aim is nothing to boast of, Sir," said Dudley back. All the ladies hid their giggles. They managed to subdue their laughter as Elizabeth looked to the two men.

George walked closer to Dudley and held his tennis racquet towards him. Elizabeth finally felt that enough was enough and that it had to be stopped. "George," Elizabeth got her cousin's attention and gave him a cold stare "I will not tolerate threats of violence in my presence. God's blood, it is but a game, now, shake hands and be done with it."

Robert held his hand out but George only hit the hand. He felt that Robert was unworthy of his position as King and was unworthy of his status as the husband of the Queen. It should have been him, not Dudley, who had married Elizabeth! He was from noble stock while Robert Dudley was descended from a long line of traitors. Elizabeth stood up. "If you think such behaviour finds favour with me, George, you are very much mistaken."

She got up, and left the room. Her ladies, led by Kat – who was the Queen's principle lady in waiting – all dropped curtseys to the King, and then followed the Queen. Robert locked eyes with Lady Mary MackWilliam for a few moments. She dropped another curtsey and left.

* * *

**14th February 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

Princess Bessie gurgled as she caught sight on the woman looking over her. Her frame was delicate, approximately 5'3 inches tall, with finely formed, tapering fingers. She was smiling, had dark amber eyes, and long, dark brown hair. Despite never having seen this woman before, Princess Bessie did not feel frightened, as the woman had an air of kindness and seemed slightly familiar to her. The woman reached down to Princess Bessie, and picked her up, holding her close to her chest where Bessie snuggled down, and began to gurgle, quietly. A smile crossed the woman's face.

The door, to the hallway outside, thumped shut, and the woman looked up, anxiously. She had hoped for more time with Bessie

"I love you, Bessie," she whispered, to the baby as she placed Princess Bessie into the crib "I love you with all my heart and I bid you never forget it."

With a swirl of her dress, she was gone, as if she had never truly been there at all, for there was certainly no sign of her. On a tree outside, which was adorned with red and white flowers, sat a falcon. It cawed for a few moments, and took off into the air. In Princess Bessie's crib, a small, thin strip of silk, with the initials A.B. melted away, as if it too, like its owner, had never been there.

The door swung open, a few moments later. Elizabeth, with Robert right behind her, entered the room. Bessie noticed her mother and gave a shriek of delight as her mother lifted her high into the sky.

"Oh, my sweet, darling girl," Elizabeth held Bessie close to her, and sat in the chair nearby. Elizabeth began to bounce Bessie on her knee as Bessie gave shrieks of delight. Robert sat on the edge of the large four poster bed and gently took Bessie from his wife. Bessie pouted for a moment, but, when she realised that Robert was her father, she gave another shriek of delight and he began to bounce her on his knee. He kissed her forehead as he, momentarily, stopped bouncing her, and then continued bouncing her again.

* * *

**15th February 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

Elizabeth sighed as she glanced over the parchment in front of her. Only a few people could marry her sister. The first was The Earl of Arran. The second was the Earl of Surrey, and the third was Thomas Culpeper, the brother-in-law of Dowager Queen Katherine Howard.

The Earl of Arran wouldn't do, as he was heir to the Scottish Throne, and thus, any children he and Mary had would be threats to England and Scotland. Not to mention the fact that he was already married.

The Earl of Surrey wouldn't do, as he was trapped in the tower, and would, after the death of his grandfather, be the Duke of Norfolk, which would make Mary a Duchess, and a threat.

So, it had to be the third. Thomas Culpeper, the older brother of Dowager Queen Katherine Howard's husband, Sir Thomas Culpeper, Viscount Culpeper. The elder brother had been ill when the younger had been born, and, since the elder had recovered, they both had the same name.

If Thomas did marry Mary, then he would have to be ennobled and made, at least, an Earl. That would be the only way that he would be suitable as the husband of the Queen's sister.

She picked up her pen and dipped it into the ink, before writing the name _Thomas Culpeper_ below the suggestions of people followed by the word _Earl_. Then, she wrote her signature underneath and handed it to one of the nearby servants.

* * *

**16th February 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

"Do you, Master Thomas, take this woman, Princess Mary Tudor to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you swear, on your solemn oath before all these witnesses, to love her, honour her and cherish her for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, and to forsake all other women for her for the rest of your natural lives until death does you two part?" Edmund Grindal, the vicar in charge of the ceremony, asked Thomas.

"I do," Thomas replied, a complete look of disgust in his eyes; he certainly had no intention of foresaking other women for a wrinkled old hag.

"And do you, Princess Mary Tudor, take this man Master Thomas Culpeper, to be your lawfully wedded lord and husband? Do you swear, on your solemn oath before all these witnesses, to love him and cherish him and to honour and obey him for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, and to forsake all other men for him for the rest of your natural lives until death does you two part" Edmund Grindal repeated the question to Mary.

"I do," Mary, like Thomas, had no feelings of love for her future husband.

After exchanging rings, Edmund Grindal spoke again "What God has joined in Holy Matrimony, let no man tear asunder. I now pronounce you man and wife. Your Grace, you may kiss the bride," Edmund Grindal make the sign of the cross over their head. Thomas readied himself. Leaning forward, and, lifting the veil out of Mary's face, he pressed his lips to hers. Elizabeth, Robert and Bessie, in the Queen's pew, rose, clapping, along with the rest of the crowd. Then, taking Mary's hand and slipping through the crook of his arm, Thomas led her down the chapel aisle and out into the Banqueting Hall at Whitehall for their wedding feast. He had done it. He had done his duty for his family, Queen and country, and now, he could leave the woman alone.

The celebrations, Mary noticed, went off without a hitch. She also noticed that all of the previous Catholic advisors had been replaced by Protestant advisors, or, if they had not been replaced, they had been forced to convert to Protestantism. That meant that heretics ruled the country... God help them...

She took a sip of her wine, and gulped. The wine tasted different than it usually did. Something clogged in her throat, she dropped the goblet, which fell to the floor with a bang, and placed her hands around her neck. She did not have time to ponder on her circumstances, as she fell, to the floor, with a loud thump. The rest of the crowd gasped, and Elizabeth rose in her throne.

But, it was too late. Whatever the physicians tried, to save Mary's life, would be in vain, for Mary was gone, two days before her thirty-fifth birthday...

Nearby, Cecil locked eyes with Sussex, and gave a small, hardly noticeable nod. Their work here was done. Elizabeth was safe on the throne, and the only remaining person, who posed a major threat, was a Scottish eight year old, who lived in France and was betrothed to the Dauphin of France, and would, in 1558, be married, as Mary would be sixteen, and in the prime of child bearing years... until that time came, The Queen of England was safe...

Unfortunately for Cecil, Francis Walsingham, Elizabeth's spy master, who was watching from nearby, had noticed the small exchange between the two men...

* * *

_To Be Continued_


	8. Princess Mary's Funeral

**This chapter might seem shorter than usual, but it is important as it puts things into play. In the next chapter, things will pick up, as there will be a time jump to the birth of Elizabeth's next child. What do you think it will be? Eleanor, don't give it away, please, for I know that you already know. I also wish to thank people for pointing out my mistake in the last chapter. I have been back and corrected it.**

* * *

**7th March 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

Princess Bessie held out her arms for her father to lift her into his arms. He smiled, as she giggled happily and he lifted her onto his lap. Princess Bessie's ladies-in-waiting watched the King fuss over his little daughter. Ever since her birth, she and the King had spent a lot of time together. "The King truly adores the Princess, doesn't he?" Lady Mary Fitzroy, nee Howard, Dowager Duchess of Richmond and Somerset, and the half sister-in-law of the Queen, asked. Lady Dorothy Stafford nodded in agreement "Indeed, he does." They watched the King play with the Princess for a few moments before Lady Douglas Sheffield, nee Howard, Baroness Sheffield approached and spoke "I think that spending time with his daughter prevents him from taking a mistress, as he is always focused on his her,"

"That is good," Mary agreed "Because Mistress MackWilliam and her family wish for her to become the King's mistress, so that her family can rise higher. The King, however, is not falling for her, despite all of her attempts." Mary glanced around for a moment before moving forward slightly, so that she was speaking, quietly, to the other two ladies "There is also the fact that Lady Katherine Ashley noticed Mistress MackWilliam's attempts to seduce the King, and told the Queen of them. The Queen was furious and the King was only able to calm her down by telling her that he had no affection for Mistress MackWilliam,"

"I assume that neither she, nor her family were happy about this?"

Mary laughed for a moment "Of course they weren't happy. Did you think that they would be?" she trailed off as Mary MackWilliam walked past.

* * *

**8th March 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

Queen Elizabeth stood by the window of her large bedchamber, staring into space as her ladies bustled around her, dressing her in a sombre dark grey gown. As her former governess, Mistress Katherine Ashley, placed a matching hood encrusted with black pearls on Elizabeth's coppery head, there was a knock on the door and her husband, Robert Dudley, King Consort of England, Ireland and France, came in, dismissing her ladies with a wave of his hand.

"Are you all right, Bess?" Elizabeth didn't turn around, though she sensed Robert come up behind her to stand at her shoulder. When she finally spoke, her voice was flat and expressionless "Yes."

"No, Bess. You're not." Robert's voice was gentle, for he knew, no matter how much he might want to spin Elizabeth around and kiss the smile back on to her rosy lips, it was impossible. It wasn't what she needed. She needed time; time and understanding to come to terms with what had happened. For her part, Elizabeth merely shook her head slightly, still dazed by the events of recent months. "I am. I ought to be. I need to be. The Protestants will expect it of me. They're not going to grieve for Mary. It's just – whatever happened between us; between her and Edward during his reign, Mary was my sister. She was practically a second mother to me at one point. I'll miss her."

"Of course you will. It's only natural." Robert reassured her, his hand on her shoulder. Elizabeth leaned back at his touch, resting her head against his chest. Robert revelled in their intimacy before breaking the spell with a quiet whisper. Robert gently led Elizabeth to the funeral pyre. She had broken all tradition by attending a funeral, but, she didn't care.

Once they had got into place, the priest began to speak "Dust to Dust, ashes to ashes... Merciful Lord God, we comment our beloved sister, the Princess Mary Tudor, into Thy tender care and we pray for the sanctity for her soul. May she rest in peace, now and forever." His low voice rang out over the hushed crowds as they gathered around the grave, huddled with grief and cold. Elizabeth stood with her husband Robert. The Emperor, Charles V, Mary's bereaved cousin, meanwhile, stood opposite them with the chief mourner, Mary's Spanish Cousin, Joan of Spain. Joan was gowned in dove grey velvet trimmed with yellow and purple – the colours of the Spanish royal mourning. Next to Joan of Spain, was John of Austria, the illegitimate half-brother of Prince Philip of Spain. He too, like Joan was wearing a dove grey velvet doublet which was trimmed with yellow and purple. His face looked sombre and tears glistened under his eyelashes. Joan placed a hand on his shoulder.

The sky overhead was grey and threatening and, as the priest pronounced the final blessing and the mourners murmured a fervent "Amen"; filling forward to lay the posies of flowers they were carrying on the upturned earth beside the freshly dug grave and also on the casket itself before they left, drops of rain began to fall. It was, as someone remarked later, well out of the Queen's hearing, as though England itself was weeping for the woman who, in her life, had once been its precious Princess.

* * *

**9th March 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

"Your Majesty?" Robert looked up, from his desk. His brother John Dudley, was stood in the doorway. Robert smiled "John," he began "How can I help you?"

"His Grace, the Spanish Ambassador, Count De Feria, is here," John replied. Robert nodded, and John left to allow the Ambassador to enter. The Ambassador moved past John and reached the desk. John dropped a bow to his brother, received a smile from his brother, the King, and left. Robert moved his work aside for a moment and looked to the Spanish Ambassador. "Count De Feria, how can I help you?"

"You can help me, Your Majesty, by telling me who murdered my Master's cousin!" Count De Feria replied, to Robert's question. Robert sighed "If only we knew, Count De Feria. If only we knew. So far, we have no answer. But, be rest assured. When we find out who killed Princess Mary, you will be the first too know. As you have pointed out, your Master, King Charles V of Spain, is - was -Princess Mary's cousin." Robert corrected himself, momentarily, at the end of his sentence. Count De Feria nodded and moved to the door. He knocked it, twice, with his fist, and it swung open. Count De Feria left and Robert sighed, placing his head into his hands and running them down his face.

His life would be so much easier if he knew who was the person that poisoned Princess Mary. So far, there were no clues. No-one seemed to know who had poisoned the Princess Mary.

* * *

**10th March 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

Jane Grey sighed as she sat at on the window seat. "Cousin?" Jane looked up, stood up, and immediately dropped a curtsey. Queen Elizabeth was stood in front of her "Is something wrong, Jane? You've been distracted for days," Elizabeth sat on the window seat as Jane began to speak "It's my marriage," she began "I am to be married to Guilford Dudley."

Elizabeth nodded "Yes. I know. Robert told me that his father and your mother were discussing it." she placed a hand onto Jane's shoulder "Don't you want to marry him, Jane? He is a rather attractive lad,"

"It is not the fact that he is attracitve - for I do not deny that." Jane replied "It is the fact that he is a pompous, arrogant, gluttonous, self absorbed prig, not to mention the fact that he smells, and he is a drunkard." Jane seemed to be working herself into a state of utter horror. Elizabeth gently squeezed Jane's shoulder "Men," she replied "Will do anything for a woman. He may take mistresses, but know this, Cousin Jane, he will have to return to you, eventually, as he will need heirs from you. That is when you can get a man to do what you want. When you are in bed with him, he is yours and you are his. Remember that. If you whisper sweet nothings into his ear, and compliment him, then he will fall for you and do whatever you ask."

Jane gave a small smile, but Elizabeth could see that something else was troubling Jane as well. "There's something else troubling you, Jane, isn't there?"

"It's the matter of consummating the marriage, Your Majesty." Jane admitted "I have heard, from friends of my mother, that it hurts," Elizabeth frowned for a moment "Your mother has friends?" she asked, and both she and Jane laughed. Elizabeth soon got back to answering Jane's question. "I will not lie to you, Cousin Jane. The first time that a man sleeps with you does hurt. But, once that is over, it should not hurt much, unless you sleep together when you are more than three months pregnant."

"Pregnant?" Jane looked horrified at the thought of having to give birth to a miniature version of her future husband. Elizabeth smiled "Being pregnant does not hurt, Cousin. Your husband, to make sure that you and the child are well, will be more faithful to you, and will change if you ask him too. It also means that your mother - who is a horrid woman - will not have any influence over you, for your husband will want you to carry the child to term, and will keep your mother away,"

"That is good," Jane admitted "For she does not realise that I have no amibition to take the throne. I just want to live a normal life,"

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed "Your mother, from what I can remember, has always been an ambitious woman. It is because she is the daughter of my aunt, Princess Mary Tudor, Dowager Queen of France and Duchess of Suffolk and she knows that, through her mother, she has a valid claim to the throne of England."

"Is that why you keep us at court?" Jane asked "To make sure that she doesn't try to take your throne?"

"No," Elizabeth replied "I keep you at court, as one of my ladies-in-waiting to keep you away from your abusive mother." Elizabeth smiled "As for marriage, Cousin Jane. You have nothing to worry about. Guilford Dudley is tthe brother of my husband. He knows that if he does anything to hurt you, then he is hurting a woman of royal blood, and could be executed, not to mention the fact that he is the brother-in-law, of the Queen of England."

"I also hear that you plan to make my future husband a Baron?" Jane asked. Elizabeth nodded "I have already made him an Baron." she informed Jane "He was ennobled at the end of last month, ready for your marriage in three days. He was ennobled as Baron Dudley."

"Then I will be a Baroness?" Jane asked, anxiously "My mother will not be pleased. She expected me to be a Duchess, or a Marquess,"

"Well," Elizabeth replied "Your mother is not Queen. I am. Your mother has no influence over me, Cousin Jane,"

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_To Be Continued_


	9. England's New Heir

**A/N:- I hope that you all enjoy this chapter. There is also a six month time jump. **

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**6th September 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

Robert looked out of the window of his chambers and watched the courtiers and their wives and children, bustle around in the courtyard below. He could spot some of them instantly. Edward Seymour, Duke of Somerset, Earl of Hertford, and Viscount Beauchamp of Hache with his heavily pregnant wife, Anne Stanhope, Duchess of Somerset, Countess of Hertford and Viscountess Beauchamp of Hache. Holding Anne's hand was a rather chubby young lad, almost twelve years old. The young lad was their second, and eldest, surviving son, also named Edward, who was his father's heir. Walking further away from them, was the Duke of Somerset's brother, Thomas Seymour, 1st Baron Seymour of Sudeley and his wife, Katherine Parr, Baroness Seymour of Sudeley. Holding Katherine's hand was their daughter, Mary, who was three, and in Katherine's arms was their son, Thomas, who was three months old. Katherine Parr was one of the Queen's favourites, and Robert could see why. Katherine Parr, since her marriage to Thomas Seymour, had managed to curb her husbands ambition, and he had, since the death of King Edward, resided away from court and looked after his children.

Edward Seymour, Robert knew, had been thrilled when his daughter, Anne, and Robert's brother, John, had been married. It meant that the Seymour's had a strong link to royalty, now that King Edward was dead. The link would become stronger after the marriage of, Jane, one of Robert's many sisters, to Seymour's third child, and second surviving son, Henry Seymour. They would be married next month, despite the bride only being ten, and the groom only being eleven. Robert knew as well as anyone that the Seymours could not be trusted. After all, they had pushed their sister, Jane, under the nose of King Henry VIII and used Jane to remove Anne Boleyn from power.

Robert knew that the death of her mother was the reason that Elizabeth never spoke to the Seymours and never gave them any important positions at court. He too, did not trust the Seymours, but he knew that they could come in handy for doing the jobs that needed someone sleazy to do them.

His thoughts drifted back to his daughter, Princess Bessie. Bessie had, three months ago, been made _Marquess of Boleyn and Rochford_, and soon, she would be an older sibling, for Elizabeth was due to give birth any day now. But, for now, he was content to watch people bustle about below. All of his work was done and his daughter was with her Governess, but he had already visited her today.

As he glanced out of the window, he noticed Guilford sat next to Jane on the bench. Jane seemed to be crying. Guilford put an arm around her and began to gently whisper in her ear. Robert couldn't think why she would be crying. He got his answer soon enough. Guilford's eyes went wide, and his jaw fell for a moment. He regained his composure, lifted Jane from the bench, swung her round, and kissed her, deeply on the lips, before leading her into thee hedge maze and away from prying eyes. Robert soon realised what the scene in front of him meant and he smiled.

His smile soon vanished as he caught sight of The Spanish Ambassador, Count De Feria, deep in conversation with Bishop Gardiner. He would have to convince his wife that Bishop Gardiner was bad news. He knew that Gardiner had met with Mary a few times before her death, and that made him dangerous. Very dangerous.

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**7th September 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

Robert paced outside of his wife's birthing chambers. Guilford smiled, placing a hand onto Robert's arm "Everything will be fine Robert. Stop panicking."

"You'll be the same when Jane goes into labour." Robert replied. Guilford gulped for a moment and took a deep breath. Robert could see that his brother was horrified at the thought, and he laughed for a moment "If you didn't want to think of that, Guilford, then why did you sleep with Jane?"

"Lust and affection took over," he replied, ashamedly "I couldn't control myself. To be honest, I'm still struggling to not take a mistress at the moment - not to mention the fact that father keeps telling me that I can because I am the brother of a King. How do you control yourself?"

"Simple," Robert replied, as another scream echoed from Elizabeth's birthing chamber "I know that, if I remain faithful to my wife, when she is pregnant, then she will love me more." Guilford seemed to be taking in this information. He looked up to Robert, who, being six years older than him, was much taller than he was.

"I understand," Guilford replied. He looked up to Robert again "Do you think that I should change for Jane?"

"I cannot decide that, Guilford," Robert replied, placing a hand on his thirteen year old brother's slim shoulders "You will need to ask that question to Jane, brother," Guilford nodded, and Robert sat in the chair opposite the door to Elizabeth's birthing chambers.

A few screams echoed, and the sound of a crying baby echoed from the room. The door, to the birthing chambers opened, and the midwife was stood in the doorway. She moved forward, and handed the bundle of blankets to Robert. He gently took the bundle of blankets and looked down into it. A round faced, plump baby boy was looking up at him with a pair of bright blue eyes. The boy had red hair, which covered his hair. His face was round, and he gave a giggle. "Congratulations," Guilford informed his brother. Robert smiled, passing the midwife and entering the room.

Elizabeth had now been cleaned up, and he handed their son back to her. She smiled down into the bundle of blankets, adjusted them and smiled. "We'll name him Edward. After my brother." Robert smiled, and nodded his agreement "Edward Tudor, Prince of Wales, and future King of England."

* * *

**8th September 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

"By the god of Grace," the Herald, leading everyone from the ceremony began "I give you Edward Tudor, Prince Of Wales, Earl Of Chester, Duke Of Cornwall,"

Edward, in a bundle of blankets in his mother's arms, was carried from the chapel. He was sleeping soundly

"Make way for Their Majesties!" the crowd parted, to allow the royal family to walk through the newly created space. Bessie toddled after her parents, hand in hand with her governess, Lady Mary Sidney, nee Dudley. She smiled, as they reached the door, and the herald cried "Her Highness, Princess Elizabeth Tudor, Marquess of Boleyn and Rochford,"

The thick, wooden, brown, oak, double doors, opened, with a small creak, and Robert smiled, as the crowd parted for Bessie to pass. When she reached the throne, she turned and curtseyed, falling to her knees in a sign of acknowledgement. Her father lifted her into his arms, and she smiled, up at him.

"Bessie," Robert began, smiling "This is your little brother, Edward." Bessie leaned forward and smiled as she saw the sleeping baby in the blankets below. "Edward," she spoke. She leaned down and placed a kiss onto Edward's forehead and smiled, brightly. Edward's eyes opened, and his mouth began to quiver. He caught sight of Bessie and reached out with his two chubby arms. Bessie gently took her hand in his and he gripped it hard, directing her hand to his mouth. Robert gently took Bessie's hand and moved it away "No, Edward,"

Edward began to blubber as tears began to build up in his eyes. Elizabeth lifted him into the air, and kissed him on the forehead. The tears soon disappeared, and he began giggling as Elizabeth bounced him up and down on her knee.

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_To Be Continued_

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**I hope that you liked this chapter. It may be a little short, and I apologise, but, I know how things are going to play out. I hope that you are not disappointed by the gender of Elizabeth's child. This chapter may also be a bit short, but it is crucial to the plot that is too come. **


	10. Attack on the Queen

**A/N:- I hope that you all enjoy this chapter. I know that I have enjoyed writing it. I will admit that the first two scenes are from "Elizabeth" which was released in 1998. The rest, however, is of my own making. I used the two scenes from Elizabeth, as it will begin to put things into play and can move my plot along. I do not own The Tudors, history, or anyone you recognise. Only the Princes and Princesses, and their cousins, etc, are mine. Nothing more. Some of these sections are short, but that is what makes them work best, I feel.**

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**18th October 1551: London, The Thames, outside Whitehall Palace, England**

While Kat Ashley, Blanche Parry and Lady Catherine Grey played cards at the end of the boat, Robert reclined by his wife's side. Both He and Elizabeth had golden masks on long thin golden stick handles. They were reclined on a large pile of pillows. Robert sat up, and moved forward a bit, holding the mask to his chin. Elizabeth watched him, and he began to speak "My true love..." He began, returning to his wife's side "...has my heart, and I have hers. My heart, in me, keeps her and me in one." He reclined onto his back, and raised a hand into the air "My heart in her. Her thoughts and senses, guided." He placed the hand elegantly to his chest "She loves my heart..." Elizabeth gave a small laugh and Robert extended a finger "...for once, it was her own," He placed the finger onto Elizabeth's skin, right where her heart was. He rested his head just above her breasts "I cherish hers." He looked up to her, and she looked up to down to him "Because in me, it bides."

Elizabeth raised the mask again. Robert spoke, on last sentence "My true love has my heart," He placed his hand to the side of the golden mask "and I have hers." Elizabeth removed the mask again, and a firework, from the edge of the Thames, shot into the air. Francis Walsingham was stood on the bank.

"Are you going to betroth Bessie to the Duke of Orléans?" Both Elizabeth and Robert gave a small laugh and Elizabeth sighed "On a nght such as this, could a woman say no to her daughter's betrothal?" Robert smiled "On a night such as this, could a Queen say no?"

"Does not a Queen sit under the same stars as any other woman?" Elizabeth asked, and Robert gave a small laugh. Robert got up and moved to the edge of the boat "Monsignor Alvaro! Monsignor Alvaro! Monsignor Alvaro, tell me. As well as Ambassador, are you not also a bishop?" The Spanish Ambassador, Monsignor Alvaro, who could easily perform the marriage, looked over to Robert. Elizabeth moved forward, to pull her husband back as he smiled down to her. Monsignor Alvaro was on another boat, sailing nearby "I am, Your Majesty," Monsignor Alvaro replied. Robert smiled "Then you can marry Bessie and the Duke of Orléans, now." Monsignor Alvaro looked confused for a moment "Now, Your Majesty?"

Elizabeth laughed, moving back the see through curtain, so that she could see Monsignor Alvaro. "Perhaps he does not know enough English to perform the ceremony?"

"Alas, Madame," Alvaro replied, from his boat "In this matter, I can be of no help to you." Elizabeth laughed, reclining back into the pillows. The scene of happiness would not last much longer. "Madame!" Catherine Grey cried. There was the sound of an arrow being fired, and the sound of someone gasping in pain, as the lifeless body of a man fell through the see through curtain. Catherine screamed. Elizabeth gave a yelp, and Robert's head snapped in her direction. Kat, Blanche and Catherine were on their feet in an instant.

Cries from different people could be heard from the bank and other boats. Robert moved the man off of Elizabeth. It was one of the castle guards, who had been shot, straight through the heart. Robert grabbed the curtain and began pulling it away. "The Queen! The Queen!" Robert cried "Look after the Queen!"

The sound of another arrow being fired, echoed from somewhere, and an arrow pinned itself into the side of the curtain. Catherine Grey screamed and Elizabeth gasped.

* * *

Elizabeth's ladies lead her through the castle. "Catherine," Jane Grey began, to her sister "See to the Queen's chambers," they passed a large support beam, which held the roof up "Catherine! _GO!"_ Catherine lifted up the front of her skirt, and sprinted ahead to the Queen's cambers "Get the bedchamber ready, Ladies. Quickly!" Kat called, as they reached a nearby archway. Catherine appeared in the archway "Come!"

"I am perfectly... well. Please do not... do not fuss." Elizabeth ordered. Robert followed her in, taking his wife by the hand.

"Madame," Cecil began, as the ladies removed Elizabeth's dress "If only you would heed my advice."

"I narrowly escaped with my life, Sir," she replied, gripping the table as her ladies began to wash the blood from her stained dress "I cannot now discuss Bessie's marriage."

"Forgive me," Cecil replied "But one cannot be separated from the other. Have I not told you-?"

"Yes!" Elizabeth sighed, sitting in the nearby chair "And, I am sick of it!" she got up, and the ladies stripped her dress off, and wrapped her in a robe, with Robert's held "This entire conversation is ill timed." Elizabeth, who had been stood behind a screen, so that Cecil could not see her without clothes on, emerged "My patience, Sir William, is not infinite." She emerged, and stopped for a moment. Robert seemed as confused as she did to see the French Ambassador stood in the doorway. The French Ambassador bowed. "Tis a great joy to see that Your Majesty is not hurt," The French Ambassador assured her, after he rose from the bow. "It was a terrible affair."

Cecil looked back to the Queen "The King of France would still know the answer to his suit."

"You may tell the King of France that he will have his answer shortly." Elizabeth replied "I need to discuss it with my husband first, as he is The Princess's father."

"Oh, Madame," Cecil moaned "The point is pressing!"

"The King of France cannot want my daughter, for his son, so much if he demands my answer so precipitously!" Elizabeth replied, casting a _You're trying my patience_ glare to Cecil. "Perhaps," The French Ambassador began "Her Majesty will not answer because her heart is already set upon another." Elizabeth's face, which had been solemn, titled slightly as she walked to the Ambassador "Do not presume, Monsieur, to know the secrets of my heart." She glanced to Robert, who gave a small nod. Elizabeth's temper, which had been ready to explode at Cecil, calmed itself and she spoke, to the French Ambassador "Monsieur De Foix. Tell you King that I agree, to the eventual marriage of Princess Elizabeth, when she is twelve years old. On one condition. I wish, for the Duke of Orléans, when he is ten years old, to spend two years in England, so that there is no trouble between husband and wife after the marriage." Monsieur De Foix had his answer. The Betrothal would now be finalised, and he would return to the English court with a document for the Queen to sign. Monsieur De Foix nodded, and left, and Elizabeth called "Cecil!" He remained, and she moved to him "If you _ever_ pressure me, or talk to me, like that again, you will find yourself under house arrest, now, leave my sight!"

* * *

**19th October 1551: Spilsby, Lincolnshire, England**

"The Queen was attacked?" Catherine Willougbhy, Dowager Duchess of Suffolk, Suo Jure 12th Baroness Willoughby De Eresby gasped. Her son, Henry Brandon, 2nd Duke of Suffolk, aged sixteen, nodded "Indeed," He replied "The Queen was attacked, on her boat, in the middle of the Thames. Someone tried to kill her with an arrow."

"Is the Queen alright? Has she recovered?"

"Yes," Henry replied "The Queen is well. Her husband, King Robert, is looking after her." He glanced around for a moment, looking for his brother "Is Charles _still_ in bed?" he asked, shocked. He knew that his brother could sleep for hours and would likely spend his whole life in bed if he could. "Yes," Catherine replied "He's developed a fever and the physician has said that he is to stay in bed." Henry smiled, sniffing slightly "Can I see him?"

"He's upstairs." Catherine gestured to the stairs. Henry moved up the stairs, and pushed the door open. Charles was curled up on the bed. The bed quilt had fallen to the floor, and he was shivering a little. Henry moved forward, lifted the quilt off of the floor and placed it over his brother. He leaned down, kissed him once, on the forehead, and left the room, gently closing the door behind him.

"Do they know who attacked the Queen?" Catherine asked as Henry came down the stairs. He shook his head "No. But the King and Queen have their suspicions. They think that is was the Earl of Surrey, or at least, that the attackers had his permission. The second one is the more likely one, since the Earl is still in the tower."

"Why would he try and kill the Queen?" Catherine asked "If the Queen dies, then Prince Edward becomes King."

"Yes," Henry replied "But the Queen knows that not many people would accept Robert, or any Dudley for that matter, as regent, and thus, the Queen's nearest family member, who would be suited to be regent, is the Earl of Surrey."

"Surely Henry Carey, or Catherine Knollys, could be regent?" Catherine suggested. Henry shook his head "They have Boleyn blood. After the Dudleys, the Boleyns are the most hated people ever. That is why Surrey is the next-in-line to be regent, after his grandfather of course, but his grandfather is getting old. The Howards are disliked, but they're liked more than the Dudleys and the Boleyns."

"Hopefully," Catherine began "The King can change the opinion of the Dudley family." Henry chuckled "He doesn't need to. When the Duke of Northumberland dies, the Dudley name will improve. I promise you that, mother."

* * *

**20th October 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

"How is my granddaughter, Princess Elizabeth?" Jane Dudley, nee Guilford, Duchess of Northumberland asked. Robert smiled, sitting opposite his mother "She is well, mother. She's growing up to be a right Tudor Princess, and a Dudley Princess too, for that matter. She's just as smart as her mother, just as stubborn as we Dudleys are, and only eleven months old."

"Good," Jane replied, taking a sip of ale from her cup and gave a smile "And Edward?" She asked, putting her empty cup down and clasping her hands together as she placed them on her knees. "He's a normal baby, and does all the normal baby things." Robert informed his mother "He is different to Bessie though. Bessie hardly cried when she was a baby, while Edward frequently cries."

Jane smiled "That is nothing to worry about, Robert. It just means that he will be more affectionate when he grows up."

"Your Majesty!" One of the grooms burst into the room "Prince Edward is missing. So is the Duke of Northumberland." Robert was on his feet in an instant "Find him!" He ordered. The groom nodded, and left. Robert looked to his mother "There will be no mercy. He _will_ be executed!"

* * *

**21st October 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland looked up, as the face of one of the Tower's guards appeared between the bars. "A visitor for you, Your Grace," The door swung open, and he looked up. Robert was stood in the doorway. He gestured, and the door closed "I didn't want to come here." Robert admitted "But I have never been able to say no to Guilford when he cries." Robert sighed, taking the chair near the door and placing it in front of his father, before sitting on it "You should see him, Father. He can barely speak."

Northumberland scoffed "It's because he is a sentimental child. He never learnt that the world is a dangerous place." Robert looked shocked at his father's attitude and took a deep breath before speaking "Do you repent for your actions, Father?" Northumberland laughed "No. I wanted more power at court, and, by kidnapping your son, I got it. Even if it was only for a moment."

"Very well," Robert replied. He got to his feet, put the chair back, and knocked once, on the door. It swung open, and Robert left. Northumberland had resigned himself to his fate, and would be executed the following morning.

* * *

**_22nd October 1551: Tower Hill, London, England_**

_"Good people, all you that be here present to see me die. Though my death be odious and horrible to the flesh, yet I pray you judge the best in God's works, for he does all for the best. And as for me, I am a wretched sinner, & have deserved to die, and most justly am condemned to die by a law. And yet this act wherefore I die, was not altogther of me - as it is thought - but I was procured and induced thereunto by other__. I was I say induced thereunto by other, howbeit, God forbid that I should name any man unto you, I will name no man unto you, & therfore I beseech you look not for it. I, for my part forgive all men, and pray God also to forgive them. And if I have offended any of you here, I pray you and all the World to forgive me: and most chiefly I desire forgivenes of the Queen's Highness, whom I have most greviously offended." Northumberland's voice was clear, and crisp as he spoke. "And I pray you all to witness with me, that I depart in perfect love and charity with all the world, & that you will assist me with your prayers at the hour of death. And one thing more good people I have to say unto you, which I am chiefly moved to do for discharge of my conscience, & that is to warn you and exhort you to beware of these seditious preachers, and teachers of new doctrine, which pretend to preach God's word, but in very deed they preach their own phansies, who were never able to explicate themselves, they know not today what they would have tomorrow, there is no stay in their teaching & doctrine, they open the book, but they cannot shut it again. Take heed how you enter into strange opinions or new doctrine, which have done no small hurt in this realm, and have justly procured the ire and wrath of god upon us, as well may appear who so just to call to remembrance the manyfold plages that this realm have been touched with all since we disserved our selves from the Protestant Church of Christ, and from the doctrine which have been received by the holy apostles, martyrs, and all sanctus, and used through all realms christened since Christ. And I verely believe, that all the plagues that have chaunced to this realm of late years since afore the death of King Henry the eighth, has justly fallen upon us, for that we have denuded ourself from the rest of Christendom whereof we be but as a spark in comparison: Have we not had war, famine, pestilence, the death of our King, rebellion, sedition among ourselves, conspiracies? Have we not had some erronious opinions spronge up among us in this realm, since we have forsaken the unity of the Protestant Church in wishing the death of the Prince Edward? and what other plagues be there that we have not felt? And if this be not able to move you, then look upon Germany, which since it is fallen into this schism and division from the unity of the Protestant Church, is by continual dissention and discord, brought almost to utter ruin and decy. Therfore, lest an utter ruin come among you, by provoking to much the just vengence of God, take up betimes these contentions, & be not ashamed to return home again, and join yourselves to the rest of Christen realms, and so shall you bring yourselves again to be members of Christ's body, for he cannot be head of a deformed or monstruous body." he looked up to the executioner and spoke "I forgive you with all my heart, and do I part without fear." And then, bowing toward the block he said, "I have deserved a thousand deaths," and therupon he made a cross upon the straw, and kissed it, and attempted to lay his head upon the block. He could not find it, and began to panic, as he fumbled around for it. The executioner grabbed his head, and laid it upon the block. The executioner raised the axe, and swung it down. There was a whistle of wind, and Northumberland died with one stroke of the axe._

**_"FATHER!"_** Guilford Dudley awoke with a start_. _Sweat was plastered to his forehead, and his chest rose and fell as he took a few deep breaths. He ran his hand through his blonde hair, and took a few more shuddering breaths. He glanced over to Jane. She was sleeping gently by his side. He chuckled to himself and smiled. Jane always had been a heavy sleeper. He gently stroked the side of her cheek, shifted himself into a new position, and pressed himself, gently, against her. Placing a kiss onto her cheek, he slung his arm over his wife's shoulder, to keep her safe, and gently closed his eyes. He would change for her, no matter what, and, while she was here, he knew that his nightmares were just that... Merely nightmares... nothing more...

He finally drifted off into a deep sleep dreaming of his family, alive, happy and well.

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**I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. Review Please. Since I am on Easter Holidays now, I can update even quicker than usual; the person who gives my 36th review will be able to request something that they want to happen in the next chapter. Check the number of reviews, and, if you are the 36th reviewer, send me a message with what you want to appear in the chapter, and I will add it in.**


	11. Princess Bessie at Hatfield House

**A/N:- I'm sorry that this chapter took so long to get out, I had writer's block. **

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**7th November 1551: Hatfield House, Hatfield, Hertfordshire, England**

"Is everything ready for the Princess Elizabeth's arrival?" Mary Fitzroy, nee Howard, Dowager Duchess of Richmond and Somerset asked.

"Yes, My Lady," Frances Johnson replied. Mary nodded "Good. Now, fetch the rest of the Princess's ladies. They will need to be here when she arrives."

Frances Johnson rushed off to fetch the ladies who would be serving the Princess Elizabeth. Along with herself, and Lady Fitzroy, there was Frances Vaughn, Gabriella Shelton, Anne Knyvett, nee Shelton and Amy Shelton. The Comptroller of the Household was to be Henry Parker, a strapping young man, aged twenty, and the heir to the baronetcy of Morley.

The royal carriage, containing the Princess, pulled up.

Here you are, my Lady Princess. Hatfield House. Your new home." Ambrose Dudley swung down off the box of the carriage and opened the door to let the little girl he was driving out, bowing low as she passed him and taking her hand to help her down the steps of the carriage. Lady Mary Fitzroy approached "Thank You, Ambrose. Will you be returning to Court immediately?"

Ambrose shook his head. "I am to stay, until tomorrow, to see the Princess settled and then I must go back. After all, King Robert and Queen Elizabeth will want to hear how Bessie takes to her new home."

"Yes. Of course they will." Mary nodded. All of a sudden, she felt a young hand touch her sleeve. Looking down, she realised that the Princess wanted her attention.

"Yes, Your Highness? Shall we go inside and find your new rooms?"

Bessie shook her head. "Can we just see the gardens first, Mary? You, me and Lady Amy?"

Mary was about to refuse, when something in the Princess's manner, as she stood there in her travelling gown of dark brown velvet and her long cloak of white rabbits fur, stopped her. Glancing over her shoulder at Lady Amy Shelton, one of Bessie's favourite Ladies in waiting, she signed to her to join them and then looked up at her brother. "Can you see to it that the Princess's trunks are taken up to her rooms?"

"I will." Ambrose assured her, and so the three of them set off into the gardens, Bessie a pace or two ahead of her companions as protocol required. For once, she was quiet, as she had been for most of the journey, and Mary began to wonder whether she was all right. She'd barely touched her breakfast before she left that morning, even though the cooks had made her favourite scrambled eggs with smoked salmon, which was very unlike her. She knew this, because Ambrose had written ahead.

Whispering to Lady Amy "I'm not sure she's all right." she hurried to catch up the Princess, who, now that they weren't in the courtyard, with the eyes of her full household upon them, suddenly stopped and put her hand on Mary's skirts. "Mary? Do my Mama and Papa love me?"

"What? Of course they do, Princess!" Mary exclaimed. "You know they do. Didn't the Queen just invest you with the title of Marquess of Boleyn and Rochford, formally in front of the Court?"

"Yes, but then she sent me away. Why did she do that if she loved me?" Bessie asked, as Lady Amy came within earshot. Amy knelt down in front of the Princess, and gently reached out to touch the little girl's shoulder. "She didn't do it because she doesn't love you, My Lady Princess. She did it _because_ she loves you."

"But I don't understand. She sent me away. Was it because I'm a girl, and won't be Queen after her?" Bessie persisted. Amy nodded "Yes. I know it sounds strange, but the thing is, it's not because you're a girl. It's -" Amy took a deep breath before continuing, choosing her next words with care. "Princess, the fact that your mother is still giving you a household of your own proves that she views you as the next Queen of France, my Lady - due to your future marriage to the Duke of Orléans. It's an honour, trust me."

"But…what if I'm lonely?" Bessie looked up at both Mary and Amy as she spoke, but it was Mary who answered.

"Don't worry, you won't be. Your father will see to that. He's going to arrange for children of people he trusts to come and live with you soon. Like his little sister, your aunt, Temperance. If you ever have any sisters or female cousins, they'll come and live with you too. You see? You won't be lonely. Now come on, let's go and find your rooms. It's getting late and we've had a long day."

"All right." Bessie smiled slightly, and slipped her hand into Lady Amy's as the latter straightened up.

Mary smiled down at her little charge and fell into step beside them as they left the gardens.

* * *

"Is she asleep?" Ambrose Dudley looked up from the book he was reading as his sister-in-law opened the door and came into the sitting room, sinking into a chair before the fire with a sigh. Mary nodded "Yes. At last."

"Leaving her mother and father is hard for her, isn't it?"

"Yes. Well, I mean, it's only to be expected. She is their only Princess, and she hasn't been away from them before. Ever."

"That's true. But Princesses have to grow up fast, Mary. You can't baby her just because she's been taken away from her mother and father."

"I know, I know. I won't. But I will let her be a child before she's forced into a marriage as an English dynastic pawn. I don't care if she's a Princess of England and future Duchess of Orléans. She's still just a little girl, and I want to let her be that little girl no matter what."

Ambrose chuckled. His sister-in-law was so fierce as she spoke about her little charge that he almost believed that she could be her mother, not just her Lady Governess. Mary smiled "Bessie is a Princess, yes, but she is a girl first. I _will_ let her be a child first!"

Ambrose glanced down to his book, and then back up to Mary and they both gave small laughs of delight for Ambrose cared for his neice, and Mary cared for her neice too... They may have been from two opposing families, but the Princess's happiness, it seemed, was the one thing that they could agree on.

* * *

Meanwhile, the Princess Bessie wasn't asleep. She had only been pretending so that Mary would leave her alone. Throwing back the blankets, she slipped out of bed and went across to the window. By standing on a stool, and straining her eyes, she could just make out the parks that stretched all around her new home. They would be fun to explore. Maybe she would learn to ride here. If she was old enough to be sent away from home, she was old enough to learn to ride. Well, that's what she'd tell Mary anyway.

"_Yes."_ Bessie thought, as she turned from the window and went back to bed. "_I could have fun here. As long as I see Mama and Papa soon, I could learn to like living here."_

* * *

**8th November 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

Robert, Guilford, Henry and Ambrose walked down the stairs at the end of the hallway.

"We're all married now," Ambrose began "When did we stop being boys and become men?"

"When King Edward died," Robert replied, looking back to his three brothers as he stopped. Twelve year old Edward Herbert was stood in front of him. He bowed and spoke "Your Majesty. The Queen wishes to see you. She wishes to discuss the tutoring of Prince Edward."

"Urgh." Henry Dudley groaned, quietly. He had stopped at the top of the stairs.

Robert walked around Edward Herbert, who turned to him. Robert smiled, and spoke "Tell the Queen I will be there shortly."

Henry Dudley collapsed to the floor, and fell down a few of the stairs.

"Henry!" Robert was by his brother's side in an instant. Resting Henry's head in his lap, he moved Henry's fringe out of his face, and gasped. Henry had gone bright red in the face, and was struggling to breath. Robert glanced up to Edward Herbert "Fetch Doctor López, quickly!" Edward Herbert nodded and ran off down the hall.

Robert looked up to Ambrose and Guilford. "Ambrose, go and check on the family. Make sure that everyone is alright. Guilford, check on the Queen and Prince Edward."

"Yes, Your Majesty." They both bowed and left.

"Come on, Henry. Stay with me." Robert begged his brother, as he refused to take his eyes off of his brother. Henry gave a small smile to Robert.

Edward Herbert returned a few moments later. Doctor López was following him.

"Put him in his chambers." Dr López began "I can work better from there."

Robert nodded, lifted Hery into his arms, and carried him to his chambers.

* * *

_To Be Continued_

* * *

**Review please.**


	12. The Marquess and the Heiress

**22nd December 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

Thankfully, the sweating sickness, which had claimed many lives, inlcluding the lives of Henry Dudley, Temperance Dudley, Anne Whorwood, and Henry Grey, had passed quickly, but the deaths of Henry Dudley, and Temperance Dudley, had made Robert sadder than ever. He only became happy around the rest of his family, his children, or his wife.

As well as this, there was the issue of who was the next heir to the title of Marquess of Dorset. Both of Henry Grey's brothers, Thomas Grey and John Grey of Pirgo, were claiming the title, while Jane, being the eldest surviving child of The Marquess of Dorset, seemed to be the better heir. Lady Frances Brandon, however, wanted the title to go to Thomas Grey, and not her daughter. This made Elizabeth more determined than ever to give the title to Jane or her husband, as Jane was the most senior claimant to the title, and a woman could be a Marquess in her own right, as Elizabeth's mother, Anne Boleyn, had been a Marquess before her marriage to Elizabeth's father, King Henry VIII. Not to mention the fact that she just wanted to spite Frances.

"I will give this some thought, and I will inform you of my decision in due time." Elizabeth informed them "Now, leave my presence. I have work to do."

They grudgingly left, and Elizabeth let a smirk cross her face, before she broke into a laugh.

* * *

**23rd December 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

Guilford tugged at the collar of his doublet and took a deep breath.

As if seeing his brother's distress, John gripped his shoulder tightly, and then slipped in ahead of Guilford, who waited for the herald to announce him before striding forwards, clad in a new doublet and hose of scarlet velvet trimmed with russet brown that he had had commissioned for this very occasion.

As he reached the dais, he sank to one knee, glancing up to catch sight of his beloved where she was stood beside the Queen. She beamed down at him athe Queen rose to her feet, lifting a hand to tell the herald that she was ready. The Herald coughed and unrolled a heavy scroll of parchment. "It is the pleasure of our Sovereign Majesties, Queen Elizabeth I and King Robert, on this day, the Sixteenth day of December in the first year of their reign, anno domini 1551, to create thee, Sir Guilford Dudley, Marquess of Dorset"

As he finished, Guilford heard the King come down off the dais and then felt first, the light weight of the silver Earl's coronet come to rest on his head and then the heavy warmth of his new robes of state being draped around his shoulders, before Robert said "Arise, My Lord Dorset" and helped him up, kissing him in friendship, and brotherhood, and handing him the patent of his newfound nobility. Guilford accepted them with gracious thanks, and then the King stepped back.

As if she'd been waiting impatiently for the ceremony to be over, which indeed, she probably had, Lady Jane leapt up and ran down the steps of the dais, dashing over to Guilford and flinging her arms about his neck, all dignity forgotten in her great delight. Guilford slipped his arms around her, and meeting the King's twinkling eye over her dark head, tipped Jane head up and kissed her full on the mouth, putting everything he wanted to say but couldn't, not in public, into the kiss instead.

"Well, My Lady Marchioness? Does this please you?" he murmured daringly into her ear as they broke apart.

"It Pleases me greatly, My Lord Dorset." she whispered back, entwining her arm with his as they turned together to greet the next group of people coming up to them to offer Guilford their congratulations on his new peerage.

* * *

**24th December 1551: Whitehall Palace, England**

"Who is that?" Elizabeth asked, pointing to a woman, stood in the crowd.

Robert looked over to the woman in question and smiled "That Bess, is Lady Amy Robsart." He made a gesture with his hands and Amy began to approach. Reaching the throne, she swept into a curtsey and kissed the hand offered by Elizabeth.

"Lady Robsart," The Queen began "You're the heiress to Sir John Robsart, are you not?"

"I am, Your Majesty." Amy replied. Elizabeth noticed that there was a slight nervous quiver in the voice of the nineteen year old girl.

"And yet, you are not married?" Elizabeth asked "By now, a girl of your age would be married and have children."

"No, Your Majesty, I am not." Amy replied "Robert and I decided not to marry, and he married you instead."

"Well," Elizabeth began "I think that Lord Fitzpatrick has taken an interest in you."

"He's betrothed." Amy replied quickly, looking up to the Queen.

"Betrothed is not married..." Elizabeth began "It is a long way on bended knee to the altar."

Elizabeth waved Amy away with a quick movement of her hand. Amy dropped into a curtsey and left. Barnaby Fitzpatrick, stood in the crowd, was the first to greet her, and, with a small giggle, she took his arm and they disappeaed into the crowd.

Elizabeth waited until Amy and Barnaby could not hear, snapped "What is the meaning of introducing your former betrothed to me, Robin?" before getting up, and stalking away.

Robert sighed and got up, before following his wife.

* * *

_To Be Continued_

* * *

**Review please.**


	13. Education, Control and Illnesses

_**13th February 1603: Richmond Palace, England**_

_Elizabeth stood by the window, watching the courtiers bustle around in the courtyard below. The picture of her husband, Robert, was on the wall. She gave a small smile to herself, stroked the dog in her arms, and thought back to all those years ago._

_Poor dear Robin, even at this distance of time, I shudder at the memory of those first years. How stubborn, and thoughtless I was, until I learned to be a wife to you._

* * *

**15th January 1561: Whitehall Palace, England**

Over the past ten years the family of Elizabeth and Robert had grown. After Edward came Anne in 1553, then John in 1554, followed by Katherine in 1556, Mary in 1558 and Richard in 1560. Elizabeth's cousin's daughter, Mary Stuart, Queen of Scotland, had, in November 1560, become pregnant with the child of the King of France, who had died just over a month ago, and Charles de Valois, Duke of Orléans had arrived in England just over a year prior.

"To return to our matters." George Howard began, handing the parchment to Robert "The weekly reports from Prince Edward's tutors." Robert unfolded the parchment and began to read it as George told Elizabeth that "The Prince is still behind his younger brother-"

"-And always will be, I'm afraid," Robert interrupted, moving to the window so that he could read the parchment better.

"Oh, if only Bessie had been a boy," Elizabeth sighed.

"She's so quick," Robert replied, smiling, as his voice filled with pride "She understands everything. Eddie often forgets what he's just learned."

"Yet, he is not backward." George interrupted, as he approached Robert, who looked up from the parchment "When he is interested in a subject, he devours it."

"I often wonder if we don't push him too hard?" Elizabeth asked, adjusting herself so that she was looking over the back of the chair that she was sat on "He looks so tired sometimes."

"How can he be tired?" Robert asked "We chose to live at Whitehall so that he can have the benefit of the sea air - the castle overlooks the River Thames. Ideal conditions."

"Roger Ascham is very strict. I remember him from my time as a child. I, unlike Edward, did well in my studies, and Roger Ascham was a good tutor to me, but he is unsuited to Edward. They are too different."

"It is for his own good," George assured her.

"The heir to the throne must be as perfect in mind and body as he possibly can be." Robert informed his wife.

"He has been very disappointing." Elizabeth agreed.

"I have spoken to Ascham on that subject," George added "He agrees with me that the Prince might take more interest in his studies if he was aware of the need to prepare for his high position. He has not yet realised what it means to be the eldest son."

"I think Ascham should speak to him." Robert informed George.

"When he judges the time is right," George replied, and Robert nodded his head in agreement.

"That can be a great shock," Elizabeth replied, looking away, sadly "I remember how it was when I was told. I was two. I had been appointed as my father's legitimate heiress, and my mother told me that I would be Queen one day, if she had no sons."

* * *

**16th January 1561: Whitehall Palace, England**

"The Third Punic War!" Roger Ascham snapped, causing Edward to jump "The dates of the Third Punic War!"

"BC?" Edward asked.

"Of course it is BC!" Ascham snapped in reply. He looked to John "Prince John?"

"149 to 146BC." John replied.

"And who was the victor?" Ascham directed the question at Edward.

"Hannibal?" Edward asked, not knowing the answer to the question.

"Not unless he deserted and joined the Romans!" Ascham snapped and John chuckled. Ascham glared at him, snapped "It is not a matter for liberty!" and he fell silent as Ascham walked away, moving to his desk. Ascham glanced back to Edward for a moment and asked "The Sieges of Boulogne?"

"The 19th of July 1544 to the 18th of September 1544." Edward gave the right answer top Ascham's question.

"The Rough Wooing?" Ascham asked

"1543 to 1550." Once again, Edward gave the right answer.

"Why is it that you cannot remember anything that you have read of Ancient History, while you know the dates and numbers of the campaigns of this century?" Ascham asked, frustratedly.

"Because they are real."

"You do not believe that the history I teach you is true?" Ascham asked, holding his long ruler between his fingers.

"Well, yes sir," Edward replied "But the history of today is more important."

"Why?" Ascham asked.

"See, when I am old enough, I want to join the army," Edward replied, smiling.

John smiled too "I am going into the navy."

"Indeed?" Ascham asked "May I remind you, gentlemen, that there are minimum standards of education required for offices in the services, which you are both still far short of attaining." He glanced to John "Prince John, you are dismissed." Both Edward and John rose and Ascham pointed his ruler at Edward "You will stay here."

"But we're expected for tea, Mr Ascham," John informed Ascham.

"Then you will inform your parents that I have detained your brother..." Ascham replied "...for reasons best known to them."

"I'll wait for you," John whispered to Edward before leaving the room.

Edward slumped into the chair and looked down at his lap until Ascham spoke.

"Your lack of application cannot fail to distress your parents." Ascham, who was opening a book, informed him "Great care and attention has been lavished on your mental development - to no avail." Ascham placed the book down in front of him and Edward looked to it as Ascham continued "The tables of the Kings of England. To prove that you are capable of some concentration, you will recite and memorize them. Start with your great-grandfather."

"Richard III." Edward read off the list.

"Plantagenet." Ascham stated "He was succeeded by your great-grandfather, the first Tudor, who was-?" He pointed to the name in the book.

"Henry VII." Edward read the words in the book in front of him.

"He had two sons," Ascham continued "Arthur, the elder, died, so he was succeeded by?"

"Henry VIII." Like before, Edward repeated the words that were in the book in front of him.

"Who had three children, Mary, the eldest, by Katherine of Aragon, Elizabeth, by Anne Boleyn, and the youngest, Edward, by Jane Seymour." Ascham stated, moving behind Edward "Who succeeded Henry?"

"Edward VI."

"Then?"

"Queen Elizabeth." Edward, after reading the name in front of him, stopped for a moment, a look of confusion passing over his face.

"Yes?" Ascham asked, seeing Edward's confused face "What is it?"

Edward looked up to him "Why did Edward come before Mary and Elizabeth? Surely that's wrong?"

"No," Ascham replied, moving around Edward "He was the eldest son."

"But his sisters were older!" Edward protested.

"That makes no difference. It is the eldest son who becomes King."

Edward's jaw fell in shock. He was to be the Future King of England?

* * *

**Ten Minutes Later**

Elizabeth noticed John enter the room and smiled "John!"

"I am sorry I am late, Mama," He replied, bowing.

"Nevermind," Robert interrupted, brushing it off "Come and join us." John moved to his chair, and Robert asked "Where's Eddie?"

"He was kept in." John replied.

"Oh, why?" Robert asked.

"Mr Ascham wanted to talk to him." John replied, looking anxious.

"Where is he now?" Elizabeth interrupted.

"In the kitchen." John replied "He doesn't want to come in."

"What?" Robert started out of his chair. John jumped and Elizabeth placed a hand onto the hand of her husband.

"No, Robert," She began, rising so that she was stood up, like her husband "Perhaps I'd better see him first."

She walked around the table, pushed open the door and entered the kitchen, before calling "Edward?" as the door closed behind her and Edward could hear his mother's voice call his name again "Edward?"

Edward was sat on the floor with his legs pulled up to his chest. He had his arms around his legs to hold them close to him. When his mother called his namefor the second time, hHe stood up, and was not facing his mother.

"Is it true?" He asked "I'm going to be King?"

"Yes," Elizabeth replied "One day you will be King." She smiled "Not for some time yet, but one day."

"I thought Bessie would be Queen. Like you," he replied, sadly.

Elizabeth now realised what was wrong "No dear," she replied, soothingly, moving around the table to reach Edward as she continued speaking "I became Queen because my brother, King Edward VI, had no brothers and his Act of Succession, passed in 1550, appointed me as his heir if he had no children, which he did not,"

"Why not John? He could do it" Edward protested, still not looking at his mother "or Richard?"

"It is your right, Edward."She replied "You are the heir."

"But I don't want too," Edward finally turned to her and she could see that he was crying, the tears rolling down his round, plump cheeks. He threw himself at his mother crying "I don't want too!" and she caught him, placing one hand on his back and the other on the back of his read haired head.

He clutched her tightly as she began to speak. "Oh, my dear. It is not what we want," she replied, stroking his hair, lovingly "But what we must, what is our duty," She moved him backwards a little, and he looked up a little, to her.

"Why can't father be King?" he asked, swallowing hard.

Elizabeth smiled, sadly "I only wiah he could," She replied "But, always remember, if anything happens to me, he will be here to guide you and protect you. That is why you must work hard, to make yourself worthy of him..."

"I can't," he protested, sadly "I can't-"

"Yes you can. If you try." Elizabeth interrupted, taking him by the shoulder. She was not scolding him; instead, she was encouraging him. "You are his son." She pulled out a tissue, with which she mopped his cheeks "Now, dry your eyes, and let him see - let us all see - how brave you can be. Now," she held out her arm. He moved into the embrace and she smiled, placing a small kiss onto his forehead "let us join your siblings,"

"Yes, Mama," he mopped the tears off of his cheeks, and Elizabeth led him into the dining room. As the door opened, they both heard laughing. Robert had Richard on his back, and was galloping like a horse.

As Robert continued his story, for the enjoyment of his children, Elizabeth followed her son into the room, and closed the door behind her. At the sound of the door closing, Robert stopped, and he and the other children, including Charles de Valois, Duke of Orléans, the betrothed of Princess Elizabeth, all looked in their direction.

"Ah, well now that you're ready, perhaps we can have some tea?"

"Y-Yes, Papa," Edward replied, and Elizabeth gave a smile that only he could see. He moved to his place, and Elizabeth moved to her chair. Robert pushed the chair under her, as despite being his wife, she was still Queen. Once she was sat down, he took his seat, and then the children sat down.

* * *

**17th January 1561: Whitehall Palace, England**

"You and I are not that different, Charles." Edward informed his future brother-in-law as they sat on the bench in the garden where their siblings were playing. The bench was in a secluded section of the garden. Large conifers surrounded the back of the path where the benches sat and the sun shone through a gap in the trees.

"We're not?" Charles asked.

"No," Edward replied "We're not. You and I are not the favourite children of our parents. Your sister, Elisabeth, the Queen of Spain, is your mother's favourite child, and Bessie is my father's favourite child. Neither he, nor my mother, approve of how I am."

"I am sorry for you, Edward."

"Thank you," Edward replied "But I am sorry for you. My parents may not approve of how I am, but my god, I am glad that I am their son and not the son of Catherine de' Medici, for she is a very dominating woman, I hear."

"She is," Charles agreed "But only to us boys. The girls can get away with anything, for Margaret, Claude and Elisabeth are the favoured ones. Francis is too young to know this, for he is not yet six years old, and does not know any different."

"Your brother is the Duke of Anjou and Alencon is he not?"

"Francis is the Duke of Alençon, Château-Thierry, Anjou, Berry and Touraine," Charles replied to the question from his future brother-in-law "Father, I believe, favoured him over us. My brother, the former King of France, was never favoured by father due to his stutter. Henry was favoured by mother. He was her favourite, and still is. She calls him chers yeux, which means Precious Eyes, and lavishes fondness and affection upon him. I detest him. He has greater health and activity than I do."

Charles sighed, and Edward placed a hand onto the shoulder of his future brother-in-law and smiled to him.

"However," Charles continued "Despite being considered the best of the sons, he has little interest in the traditional Valois pastimes of hunting and physical exercise. He is fond of fencing and is skilled in it, but he prefers to indulge his tastes for the arts and reading."

"He is like me then," Edward noted "We both prefer reading to physical exercise. John prefers hunting and riding rather than reading, and Dickon is a baby."

"Dickon?"

"Our nickname for Richard." Edward clarified "Elizabeth is Bessie, I am Eddie, Anne is Annie, John is Johnny, Katherine is Kitty, Mary does not have a nickname, and Richard is known as Dickon. It's just informal names throughout the family. Papa refers to Mama as Bessie, and she calls him Robin."

"I see," Charles replied.

"I believe that they were affectionate names from when they were younger." Edward added "I believe that Mama referred to Papa as Robin when they were eight, and the name carried on throughout the years as a term of affection."

"Your parents love each other then?"

"They do," Edward replied "They love each other a damn sight more than they love me." Edward gave a harsh cough when he had finished speaking.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Edward replied "I just feel really hot."

"It's the middle of winter," Charles informed him. Edward ran a hand over his forehead, and wiped off the sweat that had begun to form.

"Are you alright?" Charles asked, placing his hand to Edward's forehead. A few moments later, he pulled it back "Ow! Edward, your burning! I'm going to get help, wait here!"

Edward atttempted to rise, and stop his future brother-in-law, but was aunable to as a blast of pain shot through his back. His head began to throb, and he had a feeling of general discomfort. His future brother-in-law scrambled off and Edward could hear the thudding footfalls become quieter and quieter.

A few moments later, the sound of two pairs of clattering shoes echoed, and Charles returned. Queen Elizabeth was behind him.

She took one look at her son and covered her mouth in shock. She crouched in front of Edward, and lifted up his head. He clapped a hand to his mouth, gagged for a moment, and turning his head to the left, threw up on the floor.

"Charles," She began, using the name of her future son-in-law, rather than his title "Fetch Doctor Owens and my husband, quickly!"

Charles scrambled away, disappearing down the path towards Whitehall Palace.

A few minutes later, Charles returned with Doctor Owens and Robert in tow. Charles, Robert and Elizabeth stepped back as Doctor Owens examined Edward. Elizabeth and Robert began discussing what should happen with the health of their children and finally came to a decision that Robert should run the households of their children.

Once he had finished, Doctor Owens looked up to the Queen "Majesty, he has the Smallpox."

Elizabeth gasped in shock, Robert took her in his arms and Charles moaned "No," in disbelief and shock.

* * *

_To Be Continued_

* * *

Review please.


	14. Discussions and Blame

**18th January 1561: Whitehall Palace, England: The Royal Nursery**

The court seemed more subdued than usual. For suggesting that she leave her son's side, Queen Elizabeth had confined Thomas Howard, 4th Duke of Norfolk to the Tower of London on pain of death, and had almost beaten one of her ladies. The only person who hadn't been scolded was Lady Katherine Ashley, who had, eventually, been able make the Queen leave her son's side and while Elizabeth paced her chambers, Prince John and the other royal children were discussing what would happen if their brother died.

"If Edward dies," Bessie began, looking up to her younger siblings "Then you are the Prince of Wales."

"I know," John replied, barely glancing to Bessie, from his position in the chair near the window.

"And Mama and Papa will spend all of their time raising you to be King and me to be a Queen." As Bessie spoke, John could hear the amibition in her voice and knew that she would be perfectly fine with Edward's death.

"I know," John replied again, barely manging to keep the anger out of his voice.

"And then-"

_"Just be quiet, Bessie!"_ John roared, swirling to Bessie causing her to nearly jump out of her skin _"For goodness sake, you are wishing Edward to his grave!"_

_"I am not!"_

**_"YES, YOU ARE!"_** John thundered, angrily pointing a finger at her **_"YOU DON'T CARE WHETHER EDWARD DIES OR NOT! YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT BEING ONE STEP CLOSER TO THE THRONE!"_**

"No, I, I," Bessie began to protest, but John cut her off.

"You don't care," He hissed, prodding her chest with his finger "You just want one less threat in your way to the throne, well, I assure _you_, Bessie, that _I_ will not let you get it. I don't care if I become Prince of Wales after Edward's death, or not, but I do not want a bitch like you taking the throne. Papa says that you're a woman fit for being Queen of France, but if Charles de Valois, Duke of Orléans marries you, then he is getting nothing but a traitress for a wife!"

Princess Anne, aged eight, gasped and covered the ears of five year old Princess Katherine, who in turn covered the ears of three year old Princess Mary. Prince Richard, aged one, giggled happily, copying his sisters and covering his ears.

John and Bessie glared at each other, but neither moved.

With a shrill cry of "Please!" Anne interrupted, seperating the squabbling siblings "Arguing isn't going to make Edward well again!"

"Yes, you're right, Annie. You're right." John conceded to his elder sister and returned to his chair, but, nonetheless, no-one dared to approach him, for they knew that, like Edward, he had inherited the unstoppable temper of their mother and grandfather.

* * *

**18th January 1561: Whitehall Palace, England: Chambers of Queen Elizabeth and King Robert**

Robert ducked as another paperweight soared over his head. He had been ducking for about an hour as his wife had been furiously throwing things at him. His sister, Lady Mary Sidney, nee Dudley, had narrowly avoided being hit by a paperweight and had ushered all of the Queen's ladies out of the Queen's chambers and, when Robert Cecil had tried to interfere, he had been violently smacked over the head with a very large and very hard tome and was now under the care of Doctor Rodrigo López.

"This is all your fault!" Elizabeth roared, tossing another paperweight at him as the previous one smashed against the wall behind.

"My fault?" Robert asked, confused.

"Yes!" Elizabeth snapped, rummaging through one of the drawers in her desk before picking out a translation, which she had written for her brother when she was thirteen years old, and tossing it at Robert. The thick book soared through the air, missed Robert and crashed against the wall with a loud crunch "If you hadn't favoured Bessie then we would have seen this earlier!"

"You favour Bessie too!" Robert snapped in reply.

"Because she is like me!" Elizabeth snapped "But I did not neglect our other children either!" Elizabeth's temper, already explosive, was beginning to bubble again, and, with one last hurl of a paperweight, she cried **_"BY GOD, I SHOULD NEVER HAVE MARRIED YOU!"_** before slamming open the double doors and stalking away, leaving her shocked husband behind. With a loud smash, the doors slammed shut behind her, and the picture of Henry VIII, which had been on the wall, fell to the floor with a monumental crunch.

Striding down the hall, Elizabeth shook her head to prevent the tears from falling and stopped outside a doorway; the doorway to Prince Edward's room. She knew that her son would be asleep right now, and that he shouldn't be disturbed, but she couldn't help herself. Reaching out, she gripped the handle and pushed the door open. The sight that was before her made her gasp in shock.

Edward, wrapped tightly in red towels and covered in red spots, was curled up on the bed. Buckets and cloths were strewn around and several ladies were dabbing his forehead with the cloths. When they spotted Elizabeth, they dropped into curtsey, murmuring "Your Majesty," as they did so.

Elizabeth waved them off and glanced to Edward, before moving elegantly over to the bed and glancing to one of the ladies, Lady Amy Fitzpatrick, nee Robsart "How is he?"

"There's no change, Your Majesty." Amy replied, sadly glancing over to the boy "Doctor Owens says that if he has not made an improvement by tonight, then he is not likely to recover at all."

Elizabeth nodded and moved to the bed. Taking a seat, she settled herself at the edge of her son's bed, and, once all the ladies had left, began to cry into her arms, which were on the side of the bed. Thick tears leaked from her blue eyes and her body shook.

"Mama?"

* * *

**19th January 1561: Whitehall Palace, England: Chambers of Queen Elizabeth and King Robert**

"Your Majesties," Began Doctor Owens as he stood opposite the Queen and King "Prince Edward, due to his recent improvement, is likely to make a full recovery over the next few days, but I bring bad news."

"Bad news?" Robert asked, as he felt Elizabeth tense in his arms "What's wrong?"

"Despite his recovery," Began Doctor Owens "His Highness, The Prince of Wales, is likely to have difficulty conceiving children. It is very likely that his Highness, The Duke of York, will succeed the Prince of Wales as King after his death, Your Majesties."

Robert had gone pale, and, once Doctor Owens finished, he breathed "He'll be infertile?"

"It is possible, Your Majesty, but it is also possible that he will be entirely normal," Replied Doctor Owens. Elizabeth waved her hand in a motion and Doctor Owens knew that she wanted him to leave. He bowed, murmured "Majesties," and left the room.

Elizabeth seemed to be struggling to take in the thought of her heir apparent being infertile "What are we going to do if Edward is infertile?"

"We shall change the succession, Bess," Robert replied "We shall remove Edward from the succession and give him a new title, and give John the title of Prince of Wales and make him our heir."

"Robin!" Scolded Elizabeth, shocked at the words of her husband "We cannot do that. Edward is our eldest son and our heir. Besides, John will have heirs and they will succeed their father."

"I hope that you are right, Bess," Replied Robert, uncertainly "For the sake of England."

"Edward is smarter than you give him credit for, Robin," Elizabeth replied "You often push him to hard, Robin."

"My son must be perfect in every way, Bess." Robert stated, sitting in one of the chairs by the fire.

"I understand that, Robin." She replied, placing a hand onto his arm "But some nights you do not allow him to sleep because he has not, in your eyes, done well enough. What he lacks in brains, he makes up for in other ways. He is affectionate, and understands military tactics, meaning that he will be able to defend this country when he is King."

"I trust you, Bess," Replied Robert "but Edward has been nothing but a failure since his lessons began. John, who is three years younger than Edward, is smarter than his brother."

"He is only smarter when it comes to lessons and physical activity," Elizabeth replied "John, however, is terrible when it comes to military tactics. He has no idea of what to do in a situation. I saw Edward and John playing together a few weeks ago, and when Edward had the advantage, John began to panic and made several mistakes, despite being fitter and slimmer than his brother."

Glancing up to the clock, Robert nodded in acknowledgement of his wife's words, and he and Elizabeth, now reunited, climbed into bed. The previous argument, which had been over favouring their children, lay forgotten in their minds.

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_To Be Continued_

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**Review please.**


	15. Marriage, Family and Thoughts

**17th February 1561: Whitehall Palace, England**

"Her Majesty, Catherine Culpeper, formerly Tudor, nee Howard, Dowager Queen of England, Ireland and France, Viscountess Culpeper!"

The double ingress swung open, and Catherine Howard, Dowager Queen of England, strode into the room with her head held high. Catherine, who had just been a girl of twenty one at the time of King Henry's death, had now blossomed into an attractive woman, who had just entered her fourty-first year. Reaching the throne, on which sat her step-daughter, she dropped into a curtsey.

Queen Elizabeth, now firmly settled on the throne, glanced down to her step-mother. Most people were certain that Queen Catherine had caused the death of King Henry VIII and, for a while, gossip had spread around court about that matter. Though she would never admit it, Queen Elizabeth sincerly hoped that Queen Catherine _had_ been behind the death of her father, for at the death of her father, she and Mary had been free - though Mary had been forced into a difficult position under the reign of Edward - who had succeeded after their father.

Extending a hand, Queen Elizabeth held out her engagement ring for Catherine to kiss, which, sweeping into a curtsey, she did.

"Dear sweat, step-mother," Began Queen Elizabeth as Catherine rose from the curtsey "You must come to court more often. Your presence is a welcome one here at court - especially since you have not been to court in ten years. You remember my daughter, Princess Elizabeth, I assume?"

"Your Highness," Catherine dipped into a curtsey and gave a nod of her head in the direction of Princess Bessie "I have not seen you since you were a toddler - and a precocious toddler at that."

Princess Bessie smiled, dipped a curtsey back and said "Thank you, Your Majesty. It is a pleasure to see you again after so long."

"It is a pleasure to see you as well, Your Highness," Replied Catherine, smiling as she dipped into another curtsey.

"Please," Began Queen Elizabeth, interrupting the two women and gesturing to the nearby chair that had been prepared for Catherine's return to the court that she had once reigned over as Queen Consort "Sit."

Catherine sat on the chair offered to her by her step-daughter and smiled as Princess Bessie took her seat as well. Why the other members of the Royal Family were not here, Catherine did not know, but she had heard, from several sources, that Princess Bessie was betrothed to France and would, shortly after her twelfth birthday, be married to the Duke of Orléans, whom was in England so that he and his betrothed could get to know each other before they were married.

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**18th February 1561: Whitehall Palace, England: The Royal Nursery**

"I have never met Queen Catherine," Began Prince John, from his seat on the window, where he was reading a book on Latin translations "What is she like?"

"She has changed from when I was a toddler," Replied Princess Bessie from her position on the floor, where she was sat with Prince Richard, who was watching his siblings intently "When I was a toddler Queen Catherine was merely a girl; she was naive and flighty and married with a son. Now, she is still married, and still has a son, but is older and less naive."

"She sounds like Mama," Noted Prince Edward. He was laying on his plump stomach and his book, also on Latin translations, was propped up against the wall.

"Mama is not naive," Corrected Princess Anne. She, like Bessie, was sat on the floor with little Prince Richard, who, now playing with a small toy, began to laugh happily.

"But, she must have been when she was younger," Interrupted Princess Katherine, who, like her two elder siblings, was sat on another window seat "For everyone is."

Princess Mary, aged three, did not join in the discussion as she was not yet betrothed and wouldn't be for several years. She turned to the pouting Prince Richard and began to play with him, causing him to stop pouting.

"I assume that Annie's marriage was discussed, Bessie?" Questioned Edward "After all, Bessie and I are betrothed, so why shouldn't you be?"

"Annie's marriage was not discussed," Replied Bessie "And do not forget, Edward, that you are not betrothed yet. Mama and Papa have not decided on who you are to be married to yet."

Edward pouted, his round face momentarily going red as he looked away from Anne and Bessie and stared out of the window as a single tear - which was quickly wiped away - dropped down his cheek.

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**19th February 1561: Whitehall Palace, England: Prince Edward's Chambers**

"Is something wrong, Edward?" John asked as he sat opposite his brother and caught sight of the thoughtful look on his brother's round face.

"No," Replied Edward, glancing up to his brother and giving a small smile.

"You don't think that father is planning to scold you again, do you?" Questioned John, as he leaned across the table for a moment.

"Probably, but that's not important now." Edward replied and John sighed "As you know, Johnnie, I am to be married. You won't tell anyone who doesn't need to know will you?"

"Of course not." John replied, smiling "Are congratulations in order?"

"No, they certainly are not," Edward moaned, momentarily placing his head in his hand

"Who's the Princess they have chosen then?" John asked, wonderingly.

"I don't know, Johnnie," Edward stated.

"Will Mama and Papa just tell you who you're going to marry?" John asked, confused

"Not quite as crude as that," Edward informed his brother, smiling slightly at his brother's lack of knowledge on marriage "They make a selection, and I have the final choice. Only the choice is incredibly limited."

He trailed off as one of his servants placed a small glass of wine in front of him and another in front of John. Edward picked it up and said "I don't know why I drink this stuff, it makes my waistline grow more than food already does, and it makes father moan more than usual."

"It sounds as if you're going to need it." John chuckled, as he emptied his glass in one gulp

"They've scoured the Royal Families and come up with only six Princesses who have the right ancestors." Edward informed his brother "The first, Princess Elisabeth of France, is betrothed to the Spanish, so she's out as people still remember our Aunt Mary, and her evil Catholic and Spanish ways; the second, a Swedish Princess is only three, so thank heavens she's out, and the third, Lucrezia de' Medici, has got consumption." Edward reached inside his doublet and pulled out three small portraits "So that leaves three. Three French Princesses... and that's the choice."

He placed the three portraits onto the table between him and his brother.

John picked up the three portraits and looked over each one. He looked indifferent at the portrait of the almost eight year old Princess Margaret of France, but burst out laughing at the portraits of her sisters, the almost five year old Princess Joan of France and her twin, Princess Victoria of France.

"If you must laugh," Began Edward, his voice betraying his annoyance "Kindly do it in a decorous manner."

"Sorry," Blushed John.

"Well, Johnnie," Began Edward, glancing to his brother "What would you do if you had to marry one of them?"

"Frankly, Edward, I'd rather be sent to the tower." Replied John, laughing.

"So would I, Johnnie," Edward replied, gesturing for another glass of wine and lifting it up, before saying "So would I." and emptying the glass in one gulp.

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_To Be Continued_

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**Review Please**


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